Dogwood blossoms fall.
Leaves replace their soft beauty
with rugged resolve.

Wishes tell stories,
many of them bald-faced lies.
But still, we listen.

Sleep escapes the night.
So many long, restless hours,
Waiting for the day.

Feel the scorching flames
of searing hot memories.
Tears, but no water.

Grief lives there alone
in delicate reflections.
Memories of then.

What’s done is done forever.
Permanent, you see?

Asphalt street sizzles.
Another piece of pavement
covers Mother Earth.

Who owns this planet?
This verdant green paradise
recoils from our grasp.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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2 Responses to Brevity

  1. Thank you, Patty. I am so glad you like them!

  2. Patty Dacus says:

    John, these are all beautiful!!!

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