Monday, July 11, 2011

Fecund Decadence

In a secluded glen with flora rare,
A green glass pond collects, where lilies sway,
And motes of dust float in the golden air.

Here all is quiet, just specters dream;
Tad-poles grow, but only wide-eyed toads stay,
In a secluded glen with flora rare.

Trilliums bloom while in sun’s warming beam
Where dragonflies hum and cicadas play,
And motes of dust swirl in the golden air.

At tree’s roots a spider has laid her lair,
Amber leaves and spent life gently decay,
In a secluded glen with flora rare.

A wren darts by the pond with wary care—
Small carp swim past, marking the end of day,
And motes of dust fall through the golden air.

Nestled in the soft earth, my bones laid bare;
It is here my last conceit fell away.
In a secluded glen with flora rare,
Where motes of dust float in the golden air.

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