Dirty Sax

Seasons Changing autumn loses to winter Its reds and browns taken to sludge to the cold Oppression Stalingrad! Reds and Blues and some yellows Swished together in a prism Light standing bright Too bright for our eyes Sends streams of smiles over hills And fills the water cold dribbling down Into harth earthy rocks and the bottom of streams And little brown eels under rocks at the bottom of streams With hope Grubby dirt tracks Murky mud puddles Carniferous trees blushing in the harrowing breeze Lines carved by constant use Of oak encrusted teaching tables Old rubbers rulers and pencils With graphite edges sharpened For class Hills rising beyond sane comprehension grasses lying dormant in the breeze Yellowly hay turning grasses With seeds shed for the next year To come To Open To open To light. Paint.