in the icy air linger fumes from the flames drinking the dead leaves mouldering in the undergrowth flashing bright yellow lines-- serrated bite marks of the invisible insect turning the leaves white as snow quivvering in the slightest breeze lifted and floating away a sad celebration in thier rebirth the somber distruction smoke stings the eyes and leaves all forgotton birth, death, destruction, renewal all we experience is what we cannot control |
w o r d s. |
i miss this |
