Whispers of Yesterday

A lonely sentinel
of mortar and stone
a purpose long since served,
stands surrounded
by the rustle of windblown leaves, 
forever dead,
across supple blades
of newborn grasses...
both kissed equally
by the pre-dawn dews
sparkling in morning's sunlight
captured.

Majestic pines
and naked oak tree branches
reach tirelessly toward
the slate-blue skies.
The long-forgotten monolith
also reaches;
the only artifact
that we had been there once before.
All other vestiges of life
rotted by time,
leaving no hint
there was ever someone there,
save for the whispers of yesterday
to which the lonely chimney
still bears its testimony.

Overgrown pathways
winding along
the forest of knotty pines,
tell of the places we wandered
aimlessly with frivelous purpose,
all leading back, amazingly,
to that small clearing in the woods...
from the pastures...
from the heart of the forest...
from the soul of the lake...
all listening intently
hearing those whispers of yesterday
to which the neglected
pillar of mortar and stone
still bears silent testimony.

© 2006 Landen Michaels / STRESSEDwriter
   (Originally posted on my xanga 2006.03.12)