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Untitled 5

The sun strays

as its ray

fall hard on

the yard that

is long gone,

mud dried

to the point of dust,

green grass

a thing of the past.

No one remembers

what a lawn chair was,

or when

the summer went

so slow

as the old folks

sat in the yard

and yacked on

about some thing

us younglings

didn’t have

any interest in.

The flower bed

is long dead,

stone blocks

now play border

to a wasteland

of forgotten

garden dreams.

The old occupants

have long since

passed

and all that is left

are memories

and even they

will not last.

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Written by

43 / M

Published: Oct 3, 2018
LinesWords: 35103

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Untitled 5 - Hello Poetry