“With the slow climb into the Mt Everest,
I will trade sea petrichor scent blooms in the day,
For burnt orange leaves last night’s wavy ocean,

A fire setting on a flat marsh horizon exchanged,
Of hills of colorful trees she presses these sights,
Unseen on her evergreen coast into waxed,

Paper memory books fixated in my mind for all time,
Adhered to the feelings that flow through one's veins,
To God we must leave it who has first gave it to us all,
By Andrew Guzaldo 06/25/2019 © #182