Plain Speaking

The plain stretches like a tired child,
yet it is much older
It's emptiness speaking
both loudly and softly

Travellers driven onwards wonder
Will it ever end?

Green dwarves scatter themselves,
alive yet still, still here
after so many years
whispering as the screaming wind
sears the ears of those who stop,
enquiring of nothing,

the landscape is empty but full.
a landscape not of calendar proportions.

As the pink pillows of cloud drift
the plain settles,
sleep coming quickly to the earth.

the plain stretches like an ancient
who has seen it all and is tired.

it will be here again tomorrow, forever stretching.