We let the seasons take their toll
Dead leaves have filled the yard.
Drifting slowly, crunching softly,
our once green graveyard full.

It’s true in other seasons too,
Spring has it’s pollen, long grass in summer
and winter’s blueish hue.

There are those who fight the signs,
who rake the leaves, wash everything,
and mow so many times.

It would mean much work to do,
to not see the seasons change,
to not see dead things all around,
and, maybe, not feel blue.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s