wipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug.

9.29.2011

Can You Read My Mind?

Through foggy glass I see a reflection of myself in the trees.
Brown & crumpled  d r i f t i n g from the top 
                                                                              to the mud below
- - only to steep deeper and deeper in it  - - 
remaining there to ferment for months.


Then...almost quicker than they fell, these leaves will be .frozen. in time.
Restricted from movement and growth.
They can only lay to rest, lifeless, dreaming of the life they once had...


...soaking up the warmth of the sun in the complete glory of themselves...




Soon enough all of these leaves will cover the earth in a sorrowful blanket,
as a reminder to the earth of the life that once existed.
...In preparation for the frozen death that is about to engulf everything.


I look through this foggy glass...
take a finger...
and draw out:
'Why?'


Then pull the blind down.





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