The sun must have reached low to prepare
our paths, as we walked those grandeur
streets, how it simmered the wind mild
and warm, to embrace the moment as its child;

how it forged halos around your cheeks
as you smiled, painting heaven on those peaks
& august bloomed in the lake, where my hand
kissed your fluttering feet—I felt it expand

till it was too leaden for my palms, and it drained
away into a moment in time, but you remained,
steeped in memories & my deliquesced heart
whose tides would fail to let you sail apart.

where is the end
everyone has their own
everything is included
flowing waters will find their end and last droplet
winged beasts will land one last time
clouds in the heavens will rain no more
where is the end
fish in all waters will complete their last swim
insects crawling and buzzing about will settle in at last
wheat, corn, and all plants can't take the lack of liquid
mountain peaks, rolling hills, great vast plains hear nothing
where is the end
is there an end
waters may never find that last drop
beasts of the air may never land
rain will always be
fish swimming in the waters will be there
all plants will drink in the moisture of the land
mountain peaks, rolling hills, great vast plains will be listening
we can stop the end
we ALL can stop the end...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 115

What's a world without hatred,

What's a world without love?

The world, it comes
in peaks and troughs,
first sun and stars,
then rain and frost -
no tricks or cheats
to how it works.
Life, my friend
is quite absurd.