Dawson
You row your boat
in streams of
unbearable sadness
row, row
the oars sink
and rise up as you
move slowly
sitting, sitting
waiting,
watching as the scenery
appears and disappears
you do nothing
but
watch, watch
as the seasons
pass. You see leaves turning
green to orange
to brown
everything
unveils slowly
yet decays swiftly
into nothingness.
