Cars washed in dust.
They look at the sky.
As if somehow,
they might be able to see what betrayed them.
It is blue, endlessly blue.
It would be beautiful if not for the searing orb that covets dominance.
Did you think I was yours to paint and draw,
to laugh and sneer at?
Do you understand now?
All this time, you were mine.
I will do as I please.
Some days there is a gentle breeze, the wind pleading
They’re not so bad, you have forgotten the good times.
Asking for a friend though, let it rain.
But the sun is nothing if not determined,
Uncompromising.
You will see what you have done.
In the yellowed grass,
In the silence which you do not even note.
There is no bird song.
No insect noise.
You can smell it now.
You have silenced the world around you.
The only noise, the muffler of that petrol car
Or the humming of electric music of the other one.
And the wind pleads again.
And the sun throws shade.
Look a cloud.
But it is false hope,
and passes on.
The trees stand, judging, waiting.
They are screaming in pain as the ground grips at their roots
They were not meant to fit this snugly,
And then the ground cracks and they are exposed.
They were not ready for this either.
If only leaves were sharp, knife edged,
This would have ended a long time ago.
The day will come when the idiots are gone.
And they will grow again.
They know.
Whilst we sit in the silence of our noise
And that yellow orb laughs and screams at us.
Heat streaming from its core, light to brighten the day,
when suddenly all we want is grey.
The sun is screaming, screaming!
Can you hear the silence you have made?
Was that a band saw in the distance?
That silence it will deafen you.
And the sun laughs again.
Sorry, I mean deaden you.
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A Tuesday Latte 