Three is Deceptive…. Seven is Noticing

Lost in old sorrows
Oblivious to wonder
My Life skips a beat

Where is it going?
Yet called by the unnoticed
Clouds change the picture

Loud rumbling inside
Ashes and pollen up high
Pieces holding tight

Words cling together
Black and white unshaped contours
Memories or lies

Silent winds blow cold
Whose prints are those in the sand
Warm reds, no sight

Sun’s wry smile twinkles
The endless whisper of time
Brambles look amused

High in the green edge
Roots snarl and deepen their take
Tints of blue await