Clockwise some and counter fall the others;
Oak leaves know in life no joy nor suffered grief,
Nor look back now to those their clinging brothers,
Each of these a stronger clinging leaf.
These twirlers did not thrive on summer's sun,
Knew not discomfort in a winter's cold;
These did never sense that they were green and young,
Nor looked ahead to ever being old.
Since the day they were just sprout in spring
They've had no sense of leafy self at all,
And thoughtless each did to his own branch cling.
Oak leaves feel no joy, no sin since birth,
Have looked not down to where they'll spinning fall,
Nor dreaded lifeless brown upon the earth.
***************************************************
Thank you to my dear Ben, for leaving us these poems.
love, annie
***************************************************
No comments:
Post a Comment