the final smell of roses
late autumn wind
trams clank machinery and
waft bygone ages at me.
I’m thinking about excess
all those Black Friday bargains
shelves full of unread library books
piles of fallen leaves
and where does snow go?
no… not those last three.
when our needs are met, we look to art
we’re shopping instead
I love the image of the library books and fallen leaves. Black frida is a wild thing. I’m glad I’m not a reporter having to get out at 3 a.m. to cover it all!
Glad to take a moment out of my busy day for some poetry. We need art so badly to keep us human.