The Dead Leaves Dancing

November 2, 2010
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Surprising, isn’t it?
Summer is gone before we can enjoy it,
and now the cold wind burns my face
when I walk to see to it
that the sun has not been blown away, also, by the winter wind.
Like the thoughts that once grew and flourished--
now dusty moths evading my grasping consciousness,
Things to see but not to touch,
symbolic but meaningless,
like the dead leaves dancing
on the slow but often traveled roads.
The subtle stirring of air
just enough to lift them from their earthy graves
and send them dipping to skid across the pavement
unaware of their brittle ships’ masts--
pawns and ragdolls and something that is,
not of its own.
Surprising, isn’t it?
Summer is gone before we can enjoy it,
and the dead leaves continue dancing.





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MissEmilyDickinson This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Nov. 11, 2014 at 3:09 pm
This is absolutely, beautiful. It has so much, beauty yet it has this little tinge of sadness. Nonetheless, it's beauty still shines, and your poem is phenomenal and perfect to me. You have such a talent and greatness and light in you; and you're a wonderful and talented writer and person. It's true, it just is. Thank you so much, my friend! For sharing this. :)
 
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