Let the leaves change colors & fall.
Shades of orange, yellow, & red.
Autumn, the best season of all.
Take care when your head hits the bed.
The Dead descend; our town will fall.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Let the leaves change colors & fall.
Shades of orange, yellow, & red.
Autumn, the best season of all.
Take care when your head hits the bed.
The Dead descend; our town will fall.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Happy first day of fall from
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Let the leaves change colors and fall.
Shades of orange, red, and yellow.
Autumn, the best season of all.
WHERE THE WIND BLOWS
The trees of the forest shiver and shake,
their long limbs trembling for the next quake.
Their bodies blaze a glaring white
with tears frozen from their new plight.
The world has become hard and cold.
My trembling body feels old.
Surrounded on four sides by white,
the bright glare has blinded my sight.
White is the color of my nightgown
as I stand and shiver with a frown.
A shadow emerges from the trees.
I hope it is not him, pretty please.
My body moves forward against my will.
I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.
I dig my feet into the packed snow,
but I must go where the wind might blow.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
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THE PERFECT MELODY
The air is heavy.
Clouds roll in.
The sky grows dark.
You hear the first drops.
The water pounds on the roof
in a staccato melody of its own.
Pound, pound, pound.
Tap, tap, tap.
Rain washes our streets.
Clears our minds.
A new day arrives.
The world is changing.
Forests are dying.
Animals are becoming extinct.
Nature has taken control.
Days are warmer.
Rain falls harder.
Earthquakes rock the planet.
Hurricanes bring the winds.
Ocean waves dance to the deadly tune.
Bow to our new foe, Mother Nature.
Crime does its share,
But nature cleans the slate.
Towns and cities topple
Beneath the rubble.
The salt water hits my face
As I watch the waves rise.
I wait for the beautiful sight
To turn deadly and reckless.
The laps at the shore
Become heavy slaps.
Rocks and debris are
Thrown into the wind.
Soon I am drenched.
The ocean has come ashore
To wreck havoc on our lives.
My eyes tear as I search for
the ocean’s lost beauty.
I search for my old friend.
My old friend who’d soothed my fears.
My friend is long gone.
All is gone.
And so will we.
What can be better
than sitting on a bench
in the warm weather,
watching people, and
daydreaming?
Nothing.
Warm weather,
soft winds,
pretty blooms,
are all part of the
best time of year.
Welcome to spring.
Spring = Flowers.
Hope springs eternal.
Enjoy the new season!
Collapsing Giants. Greenland. [1080×108] Photo by Daniel Kordan
The mighty now fall,
Who had been so tall.
Melting to the sea,
Where no one can see
The majesty of your height
Or the last breath of your fight.
Please don’t leave us now.
Don’t take your last bow.
The earth will be a sadder place
Without your bright and shiny face.
Richard Misrach, ‘Clearing Storm Near Kingman,’ 1985, Robert Mann Gallery
Emptiness.
A vast open space.
Open to the sky.
Coated in dust and mud.
Rearranged by sand storms.
Washed by the rain.
We wait for help.
For the weather.
For settlers.
For investors.
We wait.
I feel so cold.
Ice is forming on my arms.
I see fewer animals and birds.
What is happening to me?
Why are my leaves drying up?
Ouch.
A cold wind just hit me in the face.
I wish I could hide.
But I’m stuck in place.
Waiting.
And waiting.
I think I fell asleep.
For the sun is out.
My ice is melting.
The breeze is now warmer.
It’s brushing the snow
off my cold arms.
My arms feel less heavy.
Soon it will be spring.
Time for celebration.
I can’t wait to see my
green leaves again.
Birds will return to
sit on my arms.
They will build their nests.
And life will be good.
Only a few short months left.
I will take another snooze.
See you in the spring.