05-08-2014, 10:44 AM
The last leaf falls off the evergreen tree,
Where the town’s park used to rest, now,
buried under ashes with the picnic blankets,
newborn kites, the tennis balls.
Somewhere an oak tree falls quietly,
shattering at the strength of the cement,
and in its place, a single street lamp
houses a family of moths.
The white of the moon shines dimly
against the numerous night-lit signs,
slowly tumbling down until it’s
swallowed by the buildings below.
When the sun burns for the last time,
What will be its successor?
Where the town’s park used to rest, now,
buried under ashes with the picnic blankets,
newborn kites, the tennis balls.
Somewhere an oak tree falls quietly,
shattering at the strength of the cement,
and in its place, a single street lamp
houses a family of moths.
The white of the moon shines dimly
against the numerous night-lit signs,
slowly tumbling down until it’s
swallowed by the buildings below.
When the sun burns for the last time,
What will be its successor?