Perched atop a hill,
jewel of the golden crown—
vantage of the vain.
Looking down
Tag: reality
Missed
A sturdy gum bleeds:
spectacle for humankind—
looks but never sees.
Winter is coming
Crunchy leaves snuggle
under a frozen blanket—
a morning wander.
The burning
Pop, pop, crackle, pop,
sound of tiny hearts breaking:
trees felled for firewood.
Firewood
Green, black, red, pale white;
a colour every season,
trees are humanly.
