Sunday June 24, 2012 Sunday Whirl #62

Memory of Southern Still Life

Open the window

In floats the heavy sweet scent

Of magnolia and jasmine

The memory scraps

A part of the montage

That was my first life

Ample and flawed

Demons like insects

Trapped in amber

Chiseled in granite

“Still Life”

My domain was bracketed

By the whistle from the train

Lonely sound

Heard each evening

Just about sunset