The Poetry I Won An Award For.

[Spock]

Hidden, Landscape

Black & White

Warm aromas fill the atmosphere, extending far beyond the periphery. The warm vistas remain unobscured by a flotilla of aggressive, chirping sparrows pursuing falling plums, as the small fruit thumps onto the ground. The tiny crickets obscenely threaten to disturb the blissful silence.

‘Woo’ as the wind crusades across the land plundering the foliage of the tall perennials. A lazy cat stays hidden trying to evade the unbearable humidity, although staying hidden won’t be enough, the intensity just too much. Despite the humidity, and the wind, the enticing aromas remain undefeated.
The sun begins to set bringing about dusk and filling the area with scarlet, streaking across the land. The once frivolous wind falters, draining the sound from the valley. Dirt is sent catapulting as the small sparrows indulge in an evening bird bath. The crickets endure the silence and continue to click into the night. The silence itself doesn’t endure though only to be broken by the yelps of an injured cat.

Four months later, the Sun once again rises at dawn and reveals a barren landscape. The area was a sore sight, it was scorched, ruined. There was a cloak covering the entirety of the ground, the wind was back but it’s frivolous nature replaced with a selfishness. A quick glance onto the horizon revealed that the blight wasn’t localised. The signs of life that once filled the yard were absent leaving room for only the darkest of spirits. The mild aromas of the past had also retreated.

A lone bird squeals unable to find its own way home, cut off from its sixth sense, it tires and plummets to the ground taking out tree branches as it falls. The limp brown trees rustle in the relentless wind. Tree gum comes ‘oozing’ out of the branches. The dieing tree plays host to an armada of insects, all laying dormant.

The ground lies strewn with crumpled leaves meanwhile hiding a resistance of green green grass. The brave grass won’t last long though, the lack of life constricting potential uprisings. Then the rains came, flooding the landscape. A colony of ants flee a wall of water desperately trying to avoid an inevitable death, a drain ascends from the ground, causing the water to vanish sparing the ants a most gruesome death.

The sun once again falls behind the plum tree, leaving a world anticipating new adventures, new feelings.

By Matthew Spake