The End

The End


Red roses run along the top of the fence,

Dripping petals like blood,

           A lonely old farm house stands,

                        Hidden by the trees,

Planted there to shelter it,

         No children run,

                  No dogs play,

The pasture is empty,

        A bulldozer sits there,

                A yellow menace,

Tomorrow progress happens.

© 2010 Vic Jones