Dream of a Spring Reprise

the enso

Limbs of green, yellow, and red leaves.

"Leaves Turning" by marlowe

the poem

While our hair grays, your leaves blush,
turning redder by the day, hanging onto branches
that no longer support you. With each strident gust
Old Man Winter blows through your boughs,
another dozen leaves fall to their deaths,
curling with rigor mortis before the browning begins,
catching between yellowed blades of grass that dream
of a spring reprise. For you, there is no such thing.
You were destined to give up all of your children,
and prepared for separation at the first frost.
Bare, you will stand witness to the cruelty
these seasons can wrought, until the snow
caresses your limbs like a long-lost lover.

Date: Wednesday, 19. January 2011 21:00
Trackback: Trackback-URL Category: Ephemeral, Plant

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