Waiting in the Fog

Tick-tock, the clock goes round

Hurried seconds, the only sound

 

The blackened sky succumbs to the pressure within

A silenced sparrow sits on a hard hollow cloud

The last song stuck in its throat

                                

“Someone else will do it” 

     

Unnoticed she moans, as they talked of plans

A maple tree laments as the blade comes near

The last leaf crumbles on the plastic grass

               

Defeated, she listens to the quiet protests of the wind

Unable to answer back she closes her eyes

Green to gray she fades away                                                 

                                             

Unless.

 

Baby saplings emerge out of composted newspapers

He picks up the discarded wrapper

She slowly opens her eyes

 

The little pieces come together

Perhaps there is a chance after all

They all stop and admire the dancing autumn leaves

 

Minutes roll by with devastation

The days still wait with anticipation