The Palm (2)

It's easy to see through the darkness of truth; like standing in the shade of a wond'rously sunny day. Passed the beach's cockle shell domain. The boy, wandering into the fern-gullys persistent rain. Insects' every fractal eye: spying on the animal inside, with faith to see him through. Waving solemnly next to trees' alabaster trunk, single easter-palm, its frondes held up by reverent monk. Old mollusk spirit heaves a martyred sigh. The cruel, crazy sun took the water away and held it up on a shoddy sponge.