The View from Space

Winter is at last coming to an end.

The snow recedes,

revealing the stench of piss and shit,

that layers a cold – dead – earth.

 

For a time the world will seem unsightly.

Until the day the insects wake,

and pollinate the flowers;

the paths we walk will be muddy and bare.

 

The ruts we’ve strutted in,

more than obvious;

begging spring to bring its rains and wash,

the world a – new.

 

May the rose buds bloom,

the green grass grow tall, to leave no trace,

of piss & shit & death – upon the earths face.

Such a beautiful transformation;

only to be witnessed by the moon and void of space.

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