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Autumn leaves in their passing
Fall gently to the ground Theirs is not a loud, earth-shaking crash But a back and forth trail, woven slowly through the air In death they no longer feed the tree, but they feed our senses A bright garment of red and yellow to feed the eyes A rustling, crunching bed to gather and to romp in An autumny fragrance to stir memories of our childhood …like the leaves, I hope to fall gently When my season ends Like the leaves, I hope to have fed my family tree When my season ends Like the leaves, I hope to have brightened the lives of others When my season ends Like the leaves, I hope to leave memories to gather and to romp in When my season ends ...like the leaves, I hope to fall gently When my season ends |
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