Farewell

Farewell

Pumpkin-heads peek through
their glow-less hollow sockets,
frozen mute with an empty smile.

Dried-up suns on the morgue of walkway
creak like arthritic joints under each step,
as their cremated remains swirl in the wind
with the pastel beads of orange and red,
green’s reincarnations, broken off loose
from the neck of naked trees.

Serenades begin
with the chatters of crows,
vanish with the cries of geese,
lined on a flying arrow
shooting the stars.

Blood gushes out of the ventricles of horizon,
stabbed in the west by the hand of destiny,
before the loveless beats,
turn into a flat line of blackness.

The chilling air of
the breath of death
creeps deep into the bones,
as the day comes to an early end,
like an abandoned play.

Time has come to rake
the dead leaves of summer
off the lawn of memory,
bury them into the backyard of Past.
He walked out, without goodbye.