Nightshade
This cold dimension makes us shiver, makes us pull our coats up tight.
Announcing to the well-trained eye the year has entered into night.
In the cities our great buildings, tall enough to scrape the sky,
Are now worldlets, with new shelter, whose sole purpose fools the eye.
Nature makes a quite tall structure, but there is no menace there,
Trees reach up in gentle touchings, waving to their friend the air.
These bare thin fingers don't portray an image of the hand of Death,
They reach for Life, and chase the sky ... so close ... they feel its breath.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . July 9, 2005