Storms menace the brittle panes
Enclosing the nervous roots
Of hothouse dwellers that strain
In warm and steamy dreams of growth.
Peer upon the strife
That trembles into flower
Beyond the reaching hand,
Under the walls of glass.
Here. Who is this tawny creature
Stirring in fragile insulation?
What imprisoned poet of the mold,
Building tenuous architecture
Upon the pale foundation
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