la communité quotidienne naturelles

notice
the grass growing weeds
around &
the wind begins to blow
blotting
out the horrid heat & humidity of
summer,
ushering in the beauty divided within the
vast
plethora
of
colors
when the maple & oak leaves change
painting
us upon a canvas of mountains until they
fall,
paving the ground for that first cold wet
snow
which in its very purity stands only a
moment
before it becomes polluted & corrupted by
our
filthy
selves,
but we wait in the silence of a blizzard
commanding
a momentary halt of
life,
for the spring’s fresh wash of rain
to start us all over
again.