DUST IN THE WIND

 

I’m alone

Beneath a tree

In a garden.

No sounds

But birds chirping.

The smell of grass

in the warm air.

What is that sound?

The wind rustling the leaves.

Beautiful.

Relaxing.

Perfect.

The sun retreats.

 

Footsteps draw near.

Too dark to see who it is.

It can’t be.

I’m now dust in the wind.

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THE FALLEN

 

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

 

 

The trees have been hurt,

Scarred by the recent storm.

Their leaves have fallen,

Fallen soldiers of nature’s war.

Without a proper burial,

No one will mourn for them.

New leaves will soon sprout

And take their place.

The cycle will continue

Through time and space.

ALONE IN A CEMETERY

cemetery shadows

ALONE IN A CEMETERY

The mist paints a grey.

Hissing winds sound fey.

The trees sway in tune

Under the blue moon.

With long robes, they sweep toward me.

Darker shadows they cannot be.

A statue looms in the distance.

I cannot offer resistance.

An angel turns her face to me.

A wicked grin for all to see.

Her white wings spread wide.

Time for me to hide.

THE LAST TREE STANDING

I face the wind.
Each day I wait.
Time passes.
I wait for the world to change.
People come and go.
I hear sounds of trees falling
and cries of animals dying.
The rolling hills are replaced by buildings,
monstrous symbols to mankind.
Fewer trees dot...

 

 

I face the wind.

Each day I wait.

Time passes.

I wait for the world to change.

People come and go.

I hear sounds of trees falling

and cries of animals dying.

The rolling hills are replaced by buildings,

monstrous symbols to mankind.

Fewer trees dot the naked landscape.

Dirty water fills the lakes and ocean.

Mankind has changed the world

in irreversible ways.

Stop before it’s too late.

I refuse to be the last tree standing.

 

AN OASIS FOR ME

coiour-my-world:
“ Infrared photo.
Wolni Lake in the North-West of Hamburg by Michi Lauke
”
An oasis for me
Under a purple tree.
Leaves fan my tired face
Far from the human race.
The view takes me away
Where the happy can play.
I close my heavy...

Infrared photo.
Wolni Lake in the North-West of Hamburg by Michi Lauke

 

An oasis for me

Under a purple tree.

Leaves fan my tired face

Far from the human race.

The view takes me away

Where the happy can play.

I close my heavy eyes

To shut out mankind’s lies.

 

RED LACE

I will lay down my head to sleep
Beneath a canopy so deep.
Soft leaves curl around my face,
Covering me in red lace.
Sticks of trees protect my sides.
Perfect place for one who hides.
The sun peeks in between the red,
Warmth of sunshine on my head.

 

 

I will lay down my head to sleep

Beneath a canopy so deep.

Soft leaves curl around my face,

Covering me in red lace.

Sticks of trees protect my sides.

Perfect place for one who hides.

The sun peeks in between the red,

The warmth of sunshine on my head.

 

 

FLORIDA SINKHOLE

sinkhole

 

A sinkhole where the house has stood

Lies deep in the deserted wood.

Where has everyone gone to?

The grass and trees are gone too.

 

A house and garden have once stood here.

Now there is only the ground laid bare.

Could they be in the tunnels below

And hear me if I yell out hello?

 

I hear rumbling coming from the hole.

The loose rocks are beginning to roll.

I should leave before it’s too late,

And I suffer the same sad fate.

 

THE DEAD GAME

SHACKLES OF GREEN

sweetd3lights:
“  By Iñaki Dominguez
”
Green grows deep in the forest,
Slithering up the tall trees,
Digging holes in the brown earth.
The earth rumbles and quakes,
Yearning to free itself
From the shackles of green,
Tethered to its arms and...

 

sweetd3lights:

By Iñaki Dominguez

 

Green grows deep in the forest,

Slithering up the tall trees,

Digging holes in the brown earth.

The earth rumbles and quakes,

Yearning to free itself

From the shackles of green,

Tethered to its arms and legs.

Soon all is slathered in the lime color

As a mist of green encircles us all.

 

BETWEEN THE LEAVES

magic-spelldust:
“  Invited by Ted Gore
”
Light squeezes between the leaves.
Eyes to the sky serve me best.
Rays cast hot fingers on me.
Sun has passed its daily test.
The circle widens and deepens.
A place to while away the day.
I keep to its...

 

magic-spelldust:

Invited by Ted Gore

 

Light squeezes between the leaves.

Eyes to the sky serve me best.

Rays cast their fingers on me.

Sun has passed its daily test.

The circle widens and deepens.

A place to while away the day.

I keep to its rounded corners.

A place I’ve come to love and pray.