FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

De-list some friends
i am told

After all the simplicity of
the few

shall be the gauge of
beauty.

The flowers bloom alone
under the rain and sun.

The fields are green
from faraway.

The clouds drift and
does not mind where.

The wind blows and blows
wherever it shall be.

Let me have it my way
a Choice here and there

If you look for me
There is no way where you

can find me. I am distance
and what you shall see

Is the mirage, and the hoax
of what is real.