Glistening grass
Under the twilight sun,
Buzzing little bees
That aren't really bees,
But we'll pretend
That they are,
Just for fun,
While the real ones die.
Specks of light
Between branches,
Naked still in the spring,
Despite the sun,
And the warmth,
But we'll pretend
It was always so
While the trees,
Silent portents of time,
Quietly wither and die.
Tulips and fragrant flowers,
Fewer are they to pierce
Through the earth,
Drooping petals and sickly stems,
Fatigued shadows
Of bloomless hedgerows
Starved in corners
Like shrivelled widows...
Let's not worry, they say,
Hey, we must all die one day.
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