Pretty Girl Flying Above The Yellow Flowered Fields

No pretty girl. No flying. No flowers. No yellow nothing.

Pretty Girl Flying Above The Yellow Flowered Fields

Asphalt black gets blacker still

In the total calm, sounds disappear

Wind gives up the sin of motion

Ocean tides know no boundaries

Only the pain of waves slapped back

Over the top, tippy top of mountains

Whispering over times broken spine

Step lightly. Feel the darkness there

Fill in the crevasses of the demised

It is wise to remain in silence

Snow rocked slopes grow into boulders

Once upon a drift they failed to fall

Into sleep, through no fault known

And through no fault of their own

See gray in a world gone immobile, inert

Wonder through the buried concrete slabs

Find another tunnel less dug by minors

The age of consent is over and done

Asphalt black is getting blacker every day

In the total calm there is only silence

Author's Note

There is no pretty girl or any flying or flowers or yellow anything anywhere in the poem. I'm not sorry. It is just the way things worked out. Enjoy.