Stormy Day

thickle

cloud of...something

dead grove

antique stone

a green dust

covers a garden of antiquity

grey surrounds

rain-dusted emerald hedges

things lie in dirt.

-

as time cuts furrows into the world's grooves

this grove seeks new age

in its burrows

in its dusted cracks and greying facade

in its rent physical and facade mystical

as its form is torn asunder

and its minerals transform into new compositions

reassorting and reassembling themselves

-

as time surges its crackling limbs onto earth's dirt

and sunders everything new and at once old

it changes, breathes- everything in the air

a toxic composition of life and death and age

that presents something new,

something gifted

change. a thing new and old at once.