No bright green trees
no description of the sun

no turn of phrase about sadness
or a melancholy mood

sorry

just rude granite
and colored geegaws

that resemble outcroppings
and stones

there for you
and only you

because in the end
it always is and always will be

all

you

whit howland © 2021

The shadows move in circles
as the world does.
As we live
it spins
_

it moves through my fingers like water
leaving no trace except
                                          that evaporates.

Bluebell Woods must be good
there are so many of them.

and the bluebells march
like a battalion of
infantrymen
heading for the sun.

I loved that feeling then
back in ten-acre
where the meadow ran faster than the evening could catch her and it was always sunshine,
alas
time and the bluebells marched on.