The crispness in each breath
announces the time of year.
I exhale, and it seems that the leaves turn.
All of the possibilities of spring
pull the leaves down to the ground,
and chance comes into play where each will land.
In the end, the earth is nourished,
time has continued on,
and we are blessed, with the yield of the harvest for that year.
While surrounded by our pleasures,
we find ourselves hovering nearer the hearth,
and bundling-up to erase the solstice chill;
and through the warmth, and light of our existence
our hearts are reminded to continue dreaming,
and to not waste energy trying to keep regrets alive.
For those sorrows are turning as did the leaves,
and soon will be as mulch beneath our feet.
Reducing them until they are but shadows in the wind.
Comments
Nice piece, evokes a gentle mood of revery
and through the warmth, and light of our existence
our hearts are reminded to continue dreaming,
lovely lines
the last 2 lines are a bit thingy, might be better as metaphors
and soon will be like mulch beneath our feet. [remove like]
Reducing them until they are like shadows in the wind.
[Reducing them to shadows in the wind.]
Just a suggestion.
Thanx, sir elfman....
...I wondered about taking the "like" out of those two lines. Oh, and I love your Betty White quote!
doc.
I exhale and it seems the leaves turn.
Gorgeous. One of your best. I have nothing else to say except it's hard to keep up with you, you prolific little rabbit.
wesley
Thank you, sir....
...you may have noticed this was another attempt @ a free verse poem. In this one, I think I did better.
Thanx again,
sincerely,
doc.