SEEDthough an alley way grown over with summer weeds,
twilight pulls and stretches,
into a white humid haze.
Dust swirls around the faded goldenrod -
asters lean and sway.
God's hand comes down from heaven,
brushes crimson on the 'judas' trees-
The betrayers of summer.
Drifting out in front of
an ivy burdened wooden door,
white puffs of seeds, caught up on the breeze,
rise and fall.
Sweetpea wilts on fences and iron gates,
tall grass lays aslant adeserted parking lot.
Where once the
goldfinches were timeless in song,
now the crow caws and caws.
On the horizon,
In the dimming light
the slate dome of a cathedral
looms large in the distance.
In the deserted parking lot
the smell of moss
and still water just after a rain ,
pervades this spot-
the memory of a marsh-
once the refuge of terns
stopping to rest before
taking flight to the sea.
These mountains worn away
by millions of years,
were cleared and cultivated by man,
but when we are gone,
dust will return to dust, ash to ash-
this world will be taken back
by the forest and wild vines,
and eternal impermanence.
Seasonal
I mention you told me red is your preferred colour. Glad you like it.
--
Hoping Shenmue3 will arrive one day....
Thanx for the
Have a nice weekend.
Peter
--
Hoping Shenmue3 will arrive one day....
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