A haunting Silence - Poem

When the silence is broken by a gleam

of gold from the forest floor,

If not soon to pay no more heed,

Who will be the first to speak

on this long summer day?

When you have seen them in the misty forest

And seen all these wonders,

Oh, you'll know how little time is left,

And why we must pay no more heed,

And look to the dark backroads

To the evening light,

And and wait for the end of everything.

As you stand on that other road,

And from where you have turned

To look back and see them go,