Away From Home

The landscape often reflects turmoil within and around.

Away from Home

Grass blades fidget
In the presence of the wind
Absorb the sun,
And glow brilliant green

Dead leaves gather
In ascending swirls,
Erratic in scattered piles against
Lifeless cement

Reaching,
Welcoming the other leaves
Still clinging desperate
To thin branches

The morning; cold,
Like winter dirt packed
Tight beneath the ice
Shrill air invades and
Siphons heat from
Everything alive

Where I stand
Outside the morning
All is visually well

Passing clouds adorn
The sky is still hanging
Above us, no holes
In sight

I raise my hand
And hang my head to block
The vicious scrutiny of
The sun

Walking away from home,
I dissolve with the rest of the living