deepundergroundpoetry.com
while we wait
While we Wait.
Late October it has been raining now it has stopped
the landscape is green the air mild and gentle
but there is no jubilation.
No flowers grow.
The seed in the earth slumber.
The mules in the field look pensive and sad they are
of no use anymore, farmer keeps them because they
make the landscape more rustic.
Whoever loved a tractor even if painted blue?
The harvest of this year is done
sheep have been sheared and look exposed
grazing under olive trees
I can see it in the eyes of all living things: Melancholy
for the future to come.
Will we be here come next year?
Late October it has been raining now it has stopped
the landscape is green the air mild and gentle
but there is no jubilation.
No flowers grow.
The seed in the earth slumber.
The mules in the field look pensive and sad they are
of no use anymore, farmer keeps them because they
make the landscape more rustic.
Whoever loved a tractor even if painted blue?
The harvest of this year is done
sheep have been sheared and look exposed
grazing under olive trees
I can see it in the eyes of all living things: Melancholy
for the future to come.
Will we be here come next year?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 561
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.