The dark trunks of willows,
Slowly in the grey they show.
Start to whisper an enigma
As all their secrets follow.

Patches of green with a road
With a sunken track gets sketched.
Sweet memory of those picnic spots
From the days of school get fetched.

Yes… a red road to nowhere.
Frozen slurry and damp..
Adumbrated loud on canvas,
Along the stretches of a foggy cramp.

Muddy shadows of houses in brick,
Scattered in the field appear.
Like tiny black mushrooms grow overnight
Slowly.. when the dim started to clear.

The air still hazy and chill,
so serene thoughts they pump.
Is it a road to the mackerel,
Through that blue smear on the hump?

All the flowers out there
In the morning lento bloom,
Without the fear of being robbed in time..
So if you dream to chase that dawn
for a backslide there is no room.

Soon..the shadows slide to the ridges
As the breeze begins to rhyme
In harmony to actualize the dream,
All my fears sublime…

Strung to your smile
These visions loud!!
Someday on that mount…
We ll date like that cloud