Maple branch and
plane tree branch and patchy trunk
make a triangle
that will pass away
someday like lillies that do
not work or worry.
The thin winter sun
lights it. The refurbished red
house is its backdrop.
The window with blind
half pulled down frames it, and I,
drunk on transcience,
cannot remember
why, oh why, I ever cried
for eternity.
Roy Herndon Smith
dust 