Litter from a vacationHe succumbs to darkness descending at distance.
Hourglass is soon to be upturned once again.
The sensors open themselves to the vacation.
The sound of furious water of the fall is
Near. The travel guidebook, dog-eared, is being
Eaten by moss. The village lass. A sheaf of corns.
He returns to sky and dwell on a sun like a
Thawing softy. Rings of a defective cycle
Make him turn to this earth, green and golden. Sounds
Of treasures fills his soul and still he is to be
Wiped out from this landscape of calm infinity.
Only leftover from his bad habits ‘ll litter.