Delicate moments

Delicate moments

As soft as daisy petals

Sliced apple fingers

Sweet and juicy

On a Sunday

When the sky is painted

Red

Without a hint

Of sentimentality

Fields of clover

Planted in memory

As an answer

To climate deniers

Before black rain

Washes dreams away

A cornucopia

Of lost souls

Caught fast

In a spider’s web

Of past perfect

Spun and rerun

On a rickety reel to reel

Spool

Of old news

Playing in widescreen

Usherettes have no ice cream

Every show

Is a sell-out

For the Millenials

To be spoon-fed

A suspend

Of life as a franchise

There is a fine crop

Of golden corn

Waiting for a harvest

Too late

We are chaffed husks

Blowing on

A changing wind

I remember the

Rich smell

Of autumn

Before the rising

When we were all

Just children

Waiting for the carnival

To begin.