Matthew Herlihy

Remnants of once robust foliage decorate the canvas.

Autumnal fragrance permeates the oxygen that fills my lungs.

Decaying carcasses of formerly loud leaves,

a dead squirrel speaks volumes of our haste.

The smell of gas detracts from the soul,

the harmony of traffic offends the landscape.

Cavernous potholes lie dormant, thirsting for the ignorant.

The canopy blankets those beneath while the few roost above.

His yellow vest promotes authority,

his gigantic red stop sign shows he possesses nothing other than false hope.

A blue pig eats its ice cream.

The children play in their space.

The incline is unbearable,

it all leads back to school.