torn by wet winds
erodes and decays,
entering a deep
and melancholic
sleep.
It’s a worn and aging mask
painted with autumn
landscapes,
dreaming of sunflowers
broken by storms,
trees ripped into
spinning kaleidoscopes
of red and gold confetti,
and
tire marks
in the snow.
October’s face,
up against the wall of time
disintegrates,
fragments,
descends with the leaves
towards darker days.
Its beauty is short
but the fall
is long.
poem and photo by clinock (edited redux).
photo: found wall art, Vancouver. Thanks and Credit to unknown artist.