A Shuddering Flutter By

A hollow swishing--
Midnight cars pass my window
Leaving emptiness.









They know no seasons:
Pine cones lying near the road.
Only the ground tells.

Morning spider web
Stretches across the grass blades;
An innocent net.

The old lady sits,
Her white head turned to the side.
What is she thinking?












Dark forest seems cool;
Even sunshine is not hot.
No sounds come from it.












Crushed Budweiser can
Lies by the side of the road.
"Where There's Life, There's..." trash.

A single acorn
From the giant oak above.
(Is life a cliché?)

Frantically shivering
A shuddering flutter by
Twinkles fast towards me.