The Deep Forgotten Green

Still reflections disturbed only by skating spiders skimming, swimming.
Wind hurled death leaves twirling, turning, touching, breaking tension.

Columns holding up the sky only by peeling paint, flaking, falling.
Architect’s plans crumbling, crying to carry on.
Leaving only a backwards glance at what was.

The witness is a statue, lifeless but she remembers.

Holly Burguières