They fall from grace to grass,
aged, scorched and dehydrated,
fluttering away further
the vanity of previous
greenness and elevated times,
reminding us of the fragility
of life,
the futility of striving to hang on
when time is up.
February winter was callous
And it’s still demanding restitution
From hostile winds that hunted it
Gravely last summer.
The winds, from atop crests of
Pacific waves, sallied the
Winter’s dew, powdering its face.
I wore a cravat, slinking among
Dead woods, among fainted boughs
Hoodwinked by queries of the wild.
......
Verdigris is the evidence of death,
the symbol of ruin,
of waste,
of abandonment,
of incest,
sign of eternal grief...
Dust your BOOKS of verdigris,
of the mould from which penicillin
would dread.
......
Verdigris is the evidence of death,
the symbol of ruin,
of waste,
of abandonment,
of incest,
sign of eternal grief...
Dust your BOOKS of verdigris,
of the mould from which penicillin
would dread.
......
February winter was callous
And it’s still demanding restitution
From hostile winds that hunted it
Gravely last summer.
The winds, from atop crests of
Pacific waves, sallied the
Winter’s dew, powdering its face.
I wore a cravat, slinking among
Dead woods, among fainted boughs
Hoodwinked by queries of the wild.
......
They fall from grace to grass,
aged, scorched and dehydrated,
fluttering away further
the vanity of previous
greenness and elevated times,
reminding us of the fragility
of life,
the futility of striving to hang on
when time is up.