The barest bones of giants
Are shattering in their sockets.
All around lie
Fractures, fractions, fragments;
Darkened dust disperses,
Followed by the soft green leaves
From far off paddocks,
Meadows,
Farmlands,
Virgin ground
As yet untouched by
Long, alluring
Crimson fingers
Caressing lovingly the
Screams of slowly dying
Crystal dreams –

Sienna has burnt to the ground.