Friday, 29 December 2017

Gleaming globes of gold,
and scarlet
and pink,
the brightness of their colours
masking the shadows within
and the blackness at their heart.
Too soon their coloured shapes
will fly away like birds of paradise
glistening in the sunlight,
petals of paradise.
But these are transient beauties
already in their death throes
as they soar,
for the dusk to dull their colour.
to decay,
to become dust,
while their black hearts
grow fat on what lies beneath,
like the black crows that feast
on the bright flesh of below them.
to live another day.
to make seed
for another year.

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