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

We possessed breath
yet missed the purpose of earth.

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