without the sun
a flower withers and dies
tortured and torn
on the ground it lies
broken by zephyrs
scattered upon the breeze
tossed among
decomposing leaves
far below
darkening cold skies
celestial bodies
glint as they pass by
anticipating
new birth on a new day
but for now
the sky grows cold and grey
the sky grows cold and grey
©Pamela N. Brown
October 11, 2009
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