by: David Breakspear
The chocolate boxed view of the house by the stream
with rod and line dangling, waiting for the unsuspecting Bream______or Trout.
Today is spontaneous, the sun warming my air of expectation.
Hours pass in this idyllic setting, as do days.
Now months have gone by.
As I turn the nakedness of autumn exposes itself to me,
the aroma of mulch takes my hand as the early setting sun turns to dusk.
Fields Barren of life, SAVE!! my own.
I shiver as the air turns white, a laced table cloth over the land appears,
my breath, my breath becomes smoke signals for those inside.
Dress well, I exhale.
Then soon in the distance, colours begin to dance in the rebirth of spring,
a choir of animals orchestrating a new beginning.
My time will soon come.