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The Annual End, and Beginning
The field is so rich,
and clear,
We are afraid to breathe.
Afraid to disturb the peace.
The reds and oranges
Of the autumn
Blaze and grasp our attention.
The leaves left behind by the season
Trickle by,
Down the river.
Some leaves still hang on,
watching the season end.
Then it’s their time to fall.
They are down,
The trees are empty.
Until next autumn
When the process will happen
All over again.
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Favorite Quote:
Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.