for upon your children’s children
a parade of red roses
ash blows the sky
for generations remain
locked beneath in shallow graves
foundation of bone
fire on the feet
countless clock hands clap
a breath, a clasp moment
a heart, a beat to
pulse sweet blood on track
how the world eye remains fixed
a glorious host
the vessel of birth
the cradle that serves
the ending desires of the natural way
of all that may be
expanding
one day collapsing
the cycle of near infinity
loops back upon
your children’s children
a procession of possession
travel on for as long
as time will permit
as time shall exist

notes… I will let this one stand alone, it was one of those that I say “wrote itself” for whatever that is worth, your thoughts on the matter are always appreciated…