Your craft and wile seduce me into
celebrating the falling of the leaves:
the oranges and the yellows;
the reds and the purples
anticipating the cold-tinted mornings
and brisk afternoons,
dark evenings playing rummy around the
kitchen table over
steaming mugs of tea.
You call me to the woods again and
my feet shuffling through leaves
thickly carpeting the path
so that I can no longer see my way.
I am guided by a hole high in a tree
an owl restlessly dreams while I walk,
shifting in its sleep,
always on guard.
On guard always.
I am guided, too, by the tree lying
prone upon the ground.
Piece by piece, it is melting away to
become one with the earth
to indeed change
earth, reminding me of who and what
I will one day become
broken down atoms collaborating to form
The fishermen sit around the lake
watching the wind tear
ripples across the water's surface
while the willow tree bends to admire
her shimmery reflection,
for she is yet adorned in leaves.
The fishermen tell me they've had no
luck today but still they sit,
watching and waiting.
And it is lovely.
All of it is lovely.
* * *
But finally there are no more leaves
to rip from the trees,
no more leaves to block the inevitable
iciness of the wind.
All the leaves have lost their color;
dry and brown skeletons
curling in upon themselves
tissue melting away
until only the veins of the leaves
And the holidays pass and the busyness
and my life is full of quiet and
My breath fogs the windows.
Lake Erie brings forth snow.
The world turns frigid and white and
And suddenly the thought of becoming
one with the earth,
-broken down atoms collaborating to
make something new-
seems bitterly cold and
Kelly Garriott Waite on Google+
Labels: Trifecta Writing Challenge