The rocks mark the ground
between prospering weeds enriched
by the warmth of a sun surging overhead,
encircling those of us interred
on a planet whose
percussive heartbeat rocks me to sleep.
I sense the presence of wildflowers,
of ants scurrying together in the dirt,
of life — too bountiful to count or name —
thriving in the darkness or
at least out of sight —
I dare not note a difference in perspective.
Photos remain after we pass on
a gentle breeze that thoughtlessly turns
blacks to sepia, discoloring too many memories
otherwise cruelly lost
though the sun shines tomorrow.
Phillip Knight Scott | © 2020
My first poem of the new year! Submitted to dVerse Poets Pub Open Mic Night #257
- Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Presence #writephoto
- The Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #1: January is here, with winds that blow kisses: “warmth” “percussion” “darkness” “sleep”
- Free Verse Revolution January Writing Prompt #2: “interred”