“And my quivering eyes
throb with the fear of the future.”
VERY DEEP POWERFUL STUFF
Open orbs of sight
watching scarlet tint
the furled of leaves.
Roots upturning cement
exploring the world above
poking through like a whale in the sea
frozen half-way out.
Gnarled lines etched deep –
a markage of memories.
Red brick ash lies silent
as senile beds sink lower
while the Earth caves deeper beneath the weight
of humanity.
And my quivering eyes
throb with the fear of the future.