I sat in a field one autumn night,
the moon, dark like the devil’s heart.
All the foliage remains high; a spectrum
painted with brush strokes vibrant and crisp.
Unseen and unnoticed
oblivious to the future’s conundrum.
Silently minds tossed ideas falling flat
the big winner unloved; unsavory.
Blank expressions offered hope and life,
yet weak to the looks you proffer; alive
from your passing, yet sad in how sweetly
you tucked in your wings and fell.
Every day now, the truths of solitude have dulled,
cutting and shredding like an un-sharpened blade; sculpting.
This dale, grass taller and moist, tears from eyes
gray, where living colors play, one autumn night.
With polar similarity to Neutral Tones by Thomas Hardy
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 30 – Opposite Words