A Cool Tragedy

Under the trees they sat, and together playedAs shadows crept towards the garden’s end Marble archs and stools, and dead leaves fell on the tilesBut none ever could be sure this was the order in So they played, they pushed their pawns, They tried to look at only what was underway. The cool grass, fat and green, refreshing their long legsDid pass well in the frame, and the willow did so too Until eventually, one of them passed awayStunned at what beauty could maybe had come their way Clayton Driver, 2007
Posté par David_David à 12:42 - - Commentaires [0] - Permalien [#]