I am a little melancholy today. So enjoy this attempt at prose which might mean something and might mean nothing.
(Title Here)*
Leaves on the ground
Covered in frost
Freed by the Sun
Though their life has been lost
Blowing away
Or raked up and piled
The tree will live on
In the spring with new style
And feed on the leaves
That it once wore as covers
Now naught but memories
Like thoughts of old lovers
In circles leaves dance
Though the wind isn't spinning
Entertainment for trees
Who are silently grinning
Then gone forever
Reduced now to nothing
Trees lonely and naked
Till the leaves start budding**
*I couldn't think of a title
**It is an assonance
Lost yet free - I’ll take that - and this fine swirl of words!
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteYou're a tree, not a leaf.