seed

the connecting dots are moving again
they will shift the now to then.
i will stand before the wall in vain
and the vines will cover the marks again.

the dots have begun to form a line
with rusted ends and center plain
i wont play in this tug of war
let time again be the sinner's stain.

little dots now look like clouds
shifting to another barren land
i try to catch the smoke so moist
with my feet under the ground to rest

i only watch the dots float away...