Concrete Images; Vermont Winter.
Trees, stand tall and bare
I wonder if they are cold, I am
I shiver as I write
Trucks and buses
Travel by loudly
Snow flying off
Cars
Parked crooked, dented hood
Wind barely blowing
But it's still cold
It freezes the little bit of faith I had
Puddles stream from one end of the parking lot
Drop a rock in the puddle
Watch the rings form bigger
Smell of cafeteria and fresh rain
Clouds cover the dark and gloomy sky
Leaves
None
No leaves, No heart
I feel bare, and forgotten
Birds fly over head
Screeching loudly
I wish I could fly
I wish I was free
Windows tinted dark
Reflecting the gloomy light
Snow piles half melted
Hidden under trees and bushes
Flag flapping in the wnd
Empty, no people
But us few searching for a story to tell
I have one
Few people linger past
Ground is rough
Grass short and yellow
Squishy
I step and leave my mark
Few houses sit near with no noise or movement
Make me feel empty
With no feelings
Old picnic table sits alone
In the shade of an old bare tree
Blue paint peeled off
Showing its real old brown color
Peoples names, dates, and little sayings
Carved into the remaining blue paint
Empty tennis court
one single ball rolls across the ground
Look around, feel the breeze, smell the rain
Catch the essence of this place.
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