These park leaves were once vibrant green, then soft yellow and bright red. Now they are dirt brown and withered, useless as I crunch them underfoot. Grey skies with no discernible cloud forms stretch out to a lonely horizon where the sun once shone in brilliant tangerine hue. Songbirds have all gone south, though a stray blackbird mocks me from a light pole just ahead. In the distance a solitary woodpecker bangs his head against a hollowed out tree that has long since surrendered up it's spirit.
love is like the wind
once a warming zephyr breeze
winter gales chill bones
This old oaken bench was our respite, a place to muse about the past, present, future. Love once thrived on this path of a thousand steps. Before long I drift off into a dream ~ Hand in hand we pledged our love/before our friends and God above/we sailed the skies and seven seas/we lived our lives just as we pleased/until the day the fire went out/now all we do is scream and shout ~
I come to, realizing that I am alone. Cold and alone. It begins to snow, like ashes from an angry, awakened volcano. The fallout is beautiful if not sad, yes, maddening in it's relentlessness and yet... comforting somehow. My raven nemesis alights on the grass nearby. He gawks at me with eyes that are coal black, yet I detect a softness. I sense he feels my pain, my anguish. Maybe his were caws of consolation rather than ridicule. Perhaps we are kindred spirits, he and I.
grey skies dissipate
moonlight casts a soft shadow
never truly alone
Copyright © Son of Spock | Year Posted 2019