Glossed over

They lay in wait, under the surface,
Glossed over.
Brown, green, grey, black, beige
Occasionally blue, red and yellow
Something’s happened!
Some new event requiring a response
They bubble and swirl, rise and fall
Flow like a stream through a shaded glen, the sounds bringing calm to all who hear.
Surge like a storm ready to lay waste to it’s environment, destruction incarnate.
Quick!
Gloss it over!
It’s starting to get out!
Apply on another coat!
Now grey, response subsided.
The layers are thick, they crack and peel, they won’t hold forever.
But for now they are back in their colourless prison
Glossed over,
They lay in wait, under the surface.

 

Photo: Harold Hollingsworth  Some rights reserved No changes were made.

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