Let The Curtain Fall, to Slow Music
By sweetbrother
I see a young woman in a garden with sturdy, patient hands that nurture fragile growing things I see her eyes watching a chrysalis about to burst with life, then, the unfolding dewy wings of a delicate creature, prepared to fly But this was a green summer vision; a season's change is upon the landscape in the cruel changeless rhythm of calendars and clocks Bleak days are ahead in the garden; the leaves will turn and fall leaving bare trees to stand, forlorn, as skeletons along the horizon A quietly glorious drama had unfolded in the garden, but now the curtain will descend over strains of soft mourning music; the house lights will shine reality's steely glare to wake a sleeper from his dreams Tender hands will depart leaving the gardener to his weeds and darkness will fall upon the landscape once the gardener's gone. Written October 29th, 2001 © on Oct 29 2001 12:21 PM PST 0 • 1
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"I see..."