THE TOURISTS

Such lush hues of green

Tinged with shades of autumn

Yellows becoming brown

Eventually falling down

To mingle with the soil and dust

And finally to be reduced to mulch.

The afternoon breeze

Carries a hint of moisture

The sharp edges slightly muted

Low gray clouds filter the harsh rays

Bringing forth cameras to capture

This most magnificent of days.

These kind, silly people so terminally removed

Gaping and gawking at all that they see

Yet missing so much in their ravenous glee

Chittering and chattering, creating so much noise

Talking about nothings from so far away

And missing the heart of silence.

Going through life on a one-night stopover

At the banquet of plenty, eating leftovers.