The strange
damp smell of leaves decaying
reminds me of cloudy days,
pools of black
...
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I believe Charles (below) said it all in his comment. I loved this poem, it evoked memories of damp leaves in gardens, and the ending brings us all a jolt of realism.
beautiful language the images so strking and the tale concludes with a brutal truth of how the world works: the rich and their lands while poor folks simmer on conrete a wonderful poem
Precisely written, with sharp imagery. A short walk with vivid clarity to the thrusting point of a much deeper contemplation. Bravo, good poet! NB :)