Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Tuesday, October 08, 2024

Song Bird No Longer Sings

 

I woke to a morning in silence,

no whispers heard from the hills.

It's as if the fox was sitting in waiting

and everything was unusually still. 


The sun is shining through the trees

the leaves are shades of red and gold.

Even the dog lay here sleeping 

as the day anew begins to unfold.


The season has begun to change

as everything prepares for winter sleep,

the chill of the mornings is setting in 

and the song bird no longer sings. 





-

I can't go living on dreams,

it's the only the way to see you.

From morning to night I spend

my time just thinking of  you. 


I can't go living on dreams,

it just means what it means. 

A lifetime has passed me by 

with no remedy in sight.

t

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