Time and the Moment

Carved red sanded stone

Lies inert over a plot of earth.

The dark strains of sunlight

Color a crumpled bouquet

And a dying epitaph:

Nothing Is Forever.

Across a horizon, trees wave

In an autumnal dusty breeze.

The cries of children wander,

Lazily circling the outer air.

High above, the skies watch

With a languid grin.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written from thinking at around 2 a.m.

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