The sidewalk curbs on looming path:
Twas made of gritty childhood.
And the road begins in its stead,
Looping through the stained cherry woods.

Winding downward this forest lane
Heeds bell pealing it’s chimed death toll.
My relapse proves that I rest sane,
But for approach, stemmed heads bow low.

Grass sprouts forth from sable concave,
Shrouded by crowned canopies berth.
Trees pave way for an advents wave!
Youth regained by those still callow.

May quiet serendipity
Allay the restless gathering.
Staring at end lay wayward lave:
While wild daisies plume my grave.