So it begins
Simple in its beauty
Like fresh linen tablecloths
on an old picnic table
Crisp like the apples
that hang from a nearby tree
Hard-earned wrinkles
will develop
in due time
Developing slowly
Layers of complications grow
Like weeds in the garden
multiplying exponentially
Prowling like feral cats
that sneak in the night
Wells needed to sustain life
run dry
in due time
Burning fiercely
Fires in unharvested fields destroy
Like harbingers of things to come
Consuming like ravenous beasts
Signaling like warning bells
that sound the warning
The end approaches
in due time
Reaping what is left
as deadlines approach
Ambivalence hangs in the smoky air
Like heavy curtains
Delineating what is lost
Scavenging what is left
of a season’s work
A new dawn beckons
in due time
As fresh linen tablecloths
cover old picnic tables
Writing and Reflections 
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