January 29th, 2016 Sketch of the West

by Brendan Strong

Land waves, the sea reflected,
Shaggy grass like waves cresting,
Goes on as long as us. Dejected
Lives all gone, the landscape resting.

They have all gone the way of
Change. Candlesticks and fire:
Burned wicks, melted wax. Stains on
Walls of rocks raised, placed, tired.

Old houses with creaking floors.
There are still clothes in drawers.
Broken mirrors in breakfronts with crockery behind doors.
No life stopped here, just paused

And time went marching on
All around, not noticing the
Silence left by the humans all gone.

Hard laughter from hard lives.
Now we ask how anything could survive.
The walls made of rocks abide,
Taken from the ground and left to time.

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