Moss Covered Log

Just a brief thought on the passage of time.

    Hollow like a moss covered log.

 Fragile bark, soft with damp musty dew.

 Lying still like this for ages watching seasons pass as chutes grow to trees, I become buried in their shade. 

Creeping vines like fingers remind me of old love. 

Touched and forgotten as summer fades to fall. 

Bark and bone, heart of oak.... all become dust.

Author's Note

The briefest of thoughts...

Reviews

[Susan Beth Horvath]

This holds a readers attention and has an readable, casual format.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

Liked how you put forth the decay...
and the life around the log...
gives back thoughts within the read...
and you converge the scenery...