Classic Poem

Do words bring to mind flat
sided buildings, cliff face, waterfall?
Each emotion to its respective
season and climate. Age means era,
epoch, each physical transformation
(our) body plays out. Journey
from foot to fossil print, the single
breath, misting to humidness.
Blood shadows a dense valley;
untidy buildings, an old saw-mill;
blood thins to Gods' ichor. I approach
you like a drive-in movie. Memory's
what we miss, we spool reels of it.