The sky is dark, the leaves are brown,
I stand in this forest and look around...
O Zero man! you come
with a continuous denial...
Questioning yourself-
like a Spanish Inquisition...
Open the news paper
and find out that war has a set sequence...
Autumn’s palette
spreads out before me...
an endless cycle of
green and yellow and brown...
Inexplicable.
I run my own life, when...
It was the frontal assault
of brutal summer...
Would not move the things.
They had moved me...
It's a work of art.
The structure so further so far...
Will not donate
my bloodstained shirt...
in tree tops they perched
like feathered decorations...