Nature

Beauty’s Heart

Arrow
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I found her scuffing up the autumn lawn,
Ankle deep in leaves of ochre red.
‘I think I know why beauty makes me mourn.
Its heart is sad.  It always fades,’ she said.

‘But all things fade,’ I countered, far too fast;
‘If nothing ever changed we’d all go mad!’
‘I didn’t say that anything should last...’
A grin. ‘Just that beauty’s heart is always sad.’