A yardfull of colored chairs caught my eye
the red, pink, yellow and olive ones
And the green grass that sway with the falling leaves
They cry out to me, come and sit
Under the canopy of trees that shade happily
They beckon with inclined angles and comfortable rests
Come and sit and hear us sing
In whispers and screams we count the days
Till the autumn sun retires and we’ll have to leave
I stop and ponder the scene
Of people sitting but not listening
For a second however there is peace, the one that
can only be provided by the afternoon breeze.
No comments:
Post a Comment