It's Still Life

On A Path

And when I am a milky froth 
seeping into the roots of trees, 

all that was 
will still remain. 

The house. The path leading
to my red front door.

The climbing rose that
holds up the neighbour’s fence. 

Pigeons watching, waiting
for cabbage seeds to sprout.

The creek. The footbridge. 
The blackberry brambles.

Winter greys. Afternoons.
Evening light. Autumn cold.

All that was
will still remain.

©️ Misky 2020. Miz Quickly’s 19 July prompt
Photo by Kevin Butz on Unsplash