On a dark magenta evening
I could see bright ochre leaves
Falling wearily on to a willing ground
Awaiting one final embrace
From those
Who had once moved up
In search of life
Outside a lemon yellow shoot
That eventually turned
A dull dreary brown
With all this tired living.
I know I have been busy I have been busy digging Little pits in shifting sands By a choppy sea, and waiting For my little dreams To form puddles in my living And slowly watch its walls collapse Into itself Water to Water Sand and all Amidst the roaring of the waves And the silences Of the droopy willows Crying In the falling rain
This is the way of life and death... there is beauty in both... xox
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