Rakes and Flames
As the dawn expells its authoritive cast; they awake, but are abandoned. They
turn--but their friend the sun ignores and they understand. They commune
their relationship and part with their memories; and sigh.
They say their good-byes in a tone of fullfilment, but aface their anxieties
toward the skies for hope; but are denied. A clouded sky brings a chill in the
air and a rustling of rakes and flames.
Old as hell, written in HS for publication, circa 1971 by me. When I was young in the 60's in Ohio, we burned leaves in our backyard; sometimes our household trash too. You had to be me to be there GV. Count me in as last place. Take care.
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
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