unknown artist; A Farmer Burning Leaves, Ashridge Park












May I call this a lightning?
Death has no hold on you,
Dear skies, whose last lights
Like fires from a son’s rocket
Streak across the blue and
Plant their lively seeds,
Nesting, sprouting, blooming
Across heaven’s garden
A crimsoned-leaf on the sky’s meadow,
Shouting as it falls
Upon that great lake and heads to sea –
May I so nest, sprout, bloom
And cry, bursting like powder
From some skillful soldier’s flask
Along this earthy bed
As if each day was my last.

Broom Snow
Observing the dusk,
The Jolly Mariner – Rochelle Avenue
Las Vegas, Nevada
April 21, 25 2016

Painting: “A Farmer Burning Leaves”
Unknown artist,
Oil on canvas, 1870


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