Comments about Diane Coffey
Autumn In The Year 3000
Sun bathes my garden in white heat
And I work slowly.
I unhook leaves from my artificial trees
Replacing them with gel-filled berries.
Before our world overheated,
Writers described autumn's swirling mists,
Its cool breezes,
Scents of damp decay.
I cannot imagine it and
Exhausted, I return to my dome.