porcelain soldiers

echos from the weeks that passed

now that the heat
is no longer captured
night comes cooler
soothing these trees


remains the monsoon left behind

monsoon’s last vestures
marked only by fog
rolls back into canyons
reverberations of you

the day’s fury settles
with eery silence lingering
hangs heavy as wet rugs
dripping emotive torrents

unsettling stillness
how you haunt my lawn
walking sharp edges
pierces the beauty

worn are your words
remains of this week
like porcelain soldiers
splintered on Italian tile