Posted in Poetry

All in time


time sifts out voices
cycles through ages
Summer is swift
and I could give into my head

the dread exists
a storm hangs as the grass ceases
turns brown
under winter’s thumb

I dig out paints
head for the woods
with a cape draped over my arm.

There will be less flying
with dragon-winged beasts taking heed

their last buzz wakes me
to capture on canvas

eternity.
We possessed breath
yet missed the purpose of earth.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s