The green time has gone

The green time has gone -
The sun shines lower on the horizon
These days;
Until the rain came.
Watching as the water falls,
Fat drops come down in an
Endless stream,
The blanket of water mists the trees
And makes the green fuse into one -
A solitary colour, just like that
Of old,
When the mud bombs flew and everything was
New.

The quilted sky which moves from grey to
White clouds above the houses, unloads
The rain
Onto a suburbia full of yesterdays.
The mist
Of the water lands and pools and
Runs down the streets like the brooks
And the streams, which
The children once ran through
And played in,
As though the water was time
And could be washed
Away.

The breeze drifts in through
An open window, driven
By the rain,
And the cool, calm, crisp
Summer air spreads like a blanket
Over my skin,
Like the leaves of the willow trees
Which once wept for our youth
As they were green,
Yet bent - the paradox
That we all become
When the green years have
Gone.

The sound of the rain subsides into a
Silence of streams
That flow down the roads and
Disappear into a distance
Too far to see, but a place
Where we all must go.
A sea must exist
Somewhere, beyond all the roads, where
The water of youth gathers,
Filled with boats which have
Memories for sails, that open to the wind
And lead us from our past
Forever.