The Passing Years
The bright afternoon fades into a hazy dusk
like the flame fading into a flicker
only the last leaves of an old tree
flutter unsteadily in the evening breeze.
The lovely songs of the earth float in the air
the purple sky paints lovely shadows
Longing for the yesteryears bloom
plunging one into the reminiscences of the past.
To sleep peacefully forever, deep in the earth