In the Shadow of the Autumn's Last Calico Trees
Some barriers... Something standing in the way / opaque / stifling. Some reason I can't move into the empty space.
Not now, please.
There is much to discuss, and I've so little to say. And I let it leave, let the breeze carry it away. And so clearly I can see it, carried on the amber beam of the late autumn sun, the solid surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
(One color, two colors, three. The red and the yellow and purple, had all once been, and still some were left green. It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Now winter's arrived, and with it came that pale, dusty light - which most may not notice from staying inside. A denial still swirls in the wind, and colors defiant in the sun fill the world like a glass of summer-brewed tea. There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.)
--
v2
--
In the Shade of the Autumn’s Last Calico Trees
With much to discuss, I've so little to say.
I'll let the thought leave, let the breeze carry it away.
And clearly I can see it, dancing on the amber beam of the late autumn sun
The solid but surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
One color, two colors, three.
The red and the yellow and purple
All had once been
(still some were left) green.
It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Winter dulls the day's edge with pale, dusty light
Which most can't notice from keeping inside.
Denial swirls in the breeze, and colors defiantly vibrant
Fill the world like a pitcher of sun-tea.
There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.
--
v3
--
The Last Calico Trees
With much to discuss I have so little to say. I'll let the thought leave, let the breeze carry it away. I see it dancing on the amber beam of the late autumn sun, the solid but surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
One color, two colors, three. The red, the yellow, and the purple had once been (still some were left) green. It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Winter stalks us, dulling the day's edge with a dusty light that most won't notice from keeping inside.
Denial swirls in the breeze, and colors defiantly vibrant fill the world like a pitcher of sun-tea. There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.
--
--
Not now, please.
There is much to discuss, and I've so little to say. And I let it leave, let the breeze carry it away. And so clearly I can see it, carried on the amber beam of the late autumn sun, the solid surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
(One color, two colors, three. The red and the yellow and purple, had all once been, and still some were left green. It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Now winter's arrived, and with it came that pale, dusty light - which most may not notice from staying inside. A denial still swirls in the wind, and colors defiant in the sun fill the world like a glass of summer-brewed tea. There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.)
--
v2
--
In the Shade of the Autumn’s Last Calico Trees
With much to discuss, I've so little to say.
I'll let the thought leave, let the breeze carry it away.
And clearly I can see it, dancing on the amber beam of the late autumn sun
The solid but surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
One color, two colors, three.
The red and the yellow and purple
All had once been
(still some were left) green.
It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Winter dulls the day's edge with pale, dusty light
Which most can't notice from keeping inside.
Denial swirls in the breeze, and colors defiantly vibrant
Fill the world like a pitcher of sun-tea.
There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.
--
v3
--
The Last Calico Trees
With much to discuss I have so little to say. I'll let the thought leave, let the breeze carry it away. I see it dancing on the amber beam of the late autumn sun, the solid but surreal city buildings beyond.
My laugh comes through heartily, thinking of past lives.
One color, two colors, three. The red, the yellow, and the purple had once been (still some were left) green. It was the autumn we spent in awe of the calico trees.
Winter stalks us, dulling the day's edge with a dusty light that most won't notice from keeping inside.
Denial swirls in the breeze, and colors defiantly vibrant fill the world like a pitcher of sun-tea. There's magic here still, in the dusk and the dawn and the chill.
--
--