Looking at this shadow retreating, my heart aches as I remember those robust mushrooms;
That radiate the life in the forest,only to wither and perish at the feet of sunstroke.
This shadow retreats, as light pushes darkness, a diminishing figure hanging on a pole.
In this fading memory lies forgotten laughter, sinking hope that once upon a time flourished with expectations.
Alas, there is no longer laughter here.
This part of the earth is scorched of all laughter;
Not even a phallic laughter often heard in hidden places; where fun seekers and baby boomers bite the apple in bare flesh.
There is no laughter here, in this corner of the Earth.
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