nature in fogToday at Golden Hour
I stared straight into the Sun
orange like henna in white hair

The cataract of August humidity
across its eye, I turned away quickly
A warning whispered in my ear

“Look and you will die.”
But false hope lies
in careless implication

Look or not,
the astral face of God
will always overpower

Look or not,
you will still
be gone.

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