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Apathy

Apathy

Birds in flocks flee south
before he steps onto the scene.
Sending out the first storms
that make the trees
still in their autumn glory
shiver.

Dazzling leaves drop in flurries
graceful in their flight.
Dancers, suspended in the air
twirling pirouettes.
The final performance in the light –
magnificent.

Stronger now, he bullies- the old grump!
Pulling, yanking, ripping
them with all his might.
None escape his vigor,
former vanities humbled –
thus extinguished.

In heaps they lie to rot
while he advances on the land.
Laying matching waste to all
things green and cheerful.

The trees now bared and naked
branches crying mercy to the heavens.
Like Medusa’s snakes
writhing furiously in the wind:
Winter’s grotesque companions.

He rules with frosty competence,
the world a darker shade of ugly.
Sounds hushed and muffled,
joyless lethargy encompasses
nature.

While deep below the ground,
Mother whispers:
Sleep, my babies! Rest! Prepare!

The roots and seeds they dream,
of little buds and shoots
and dainty flowers.
The song of birds and nests
and chicks arriving.

Imagine,
she murmurs,
Spring.

2 thoughts on “Apathy

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