More Shadows

Trees are indifferent to worldviews, so am I Just growing on is only aim I follow Life is a ritual I thoroughly comply Before they send me up into the heavens hollow Extremes of weather is my genuine concern I’m sorting memories in search for something new Including streets, where my illusions should be gone But they return, and one of them reminds of you Those sunny streets are cleaned with recent rain Trees are the ancient gods of summer in my book I borrowed bronze to paint your tired face again Now need to add more shadows to your look.