Wednesday, November 16, 2011

A poem

Autumn's leaves
blush red
at the indifference
of their departing lord

But the cold
of his prolonged absence
turns them brittle, brown
and wilted

Until breaking
under burdens
of love's seeming abandonment
they fall
borne lightly to the ground
as living tears
on death's feeble breeze

Wrapped up tight against the cold
my breath but
an Autumn fog
I walk
their path of broken hearts.