His Arid Life

Seeking out unheeded voices When wilted asters crack silence Pondering days of green-eyed he While shriveled leaves descend gently Softly swaying, meeting the prairies The wind! The sea! The clouds Idle eyeing the earthly ground Weighing matters to console him self Navel gazing shadows of his quest What name shall he bequeath behind? Iniquitous schemes made for affluence He asked himself “Am I ready to shell out my doings? ” Matters were on roots of feat? Summer teased, amity vanished Plucked just buds by torment and greed The wind! The sea! The clouds Idle eyeing the earthly ground Such a doleful view from the sky None comes to give a rose to his hand No one shares a marsh to his arid life 10th of December,2009