Sparks Fly

Yellows to golds
And all the shades of brown
Whithering and dried
Dead or Dying
Empty and lonily
Finding solice in solitude
Singled
Then duplicity
Another comes, intrigued
Curious and blissfully unaware
Oblivious or uncaring
To the gross neglect
That has befallen this land
Rinning a hand through the inkempt grass

Her touch lighting a spark of life
Igniting the feild in a blaze of color
Hues of green ripple outward
Sweeping
Sweeping tranquill untill all is engulfed
Explosions of color
Follow in its wake
Like fire works expanding into a horizon inending
One person
One touch
Returning colors long since forgotten
In shades never imagined
And she
Ignorant of her effect
Stands at the epicenter
Breathing life and warmth
Into a land that has missed both
For a very long time