We All Must Fall Down Eventually
A sonnet
Published in
Sep 8, 2022
Face cracked then pealed and fell with dirt and dust.
A pretty sunlit decomposing scene.
This age of ripening with dew and rust.
There’s so much beauty left from all that’s been.
Dank smell of mold mixed with this sweet perfume
as tiny spider mites hang silky strands
from thin dry branches, soft abandoned bloom,
lost time slips by, as this late hour commands
through plastic lichen blue incrusted sieve
still lighting mildewed goldenrod and hay.
A wheel to turn on. Something’s got to give.
What’s better than still being here today.
I’ll keep on looking, long as I can see.
We all must fall down eventually.
