Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
To Paul and ArtI hear your words in the softest
Echoes of the trees, as breeze brings
Leaves that were green cascading
Down to my feet, the brown decay
I crush under crisp footsteps,
Crunching against your gentle voices
Which sing of broken hearts raked
Away by former loves.
My leaves have never fallen, and
Often I am given to reveling in green
As a permanent sapling would,
Feeding on last autumn's windfalls with
Greedy and youthful roots. I do not notice
The blight of time until it kills you;
Gradual decay creeps down and
Before I have time to remember, I see
Leaves and loves and cares and songs,
That flutter daily through the air -
Once you too were twenty-one,
Green and yet so eloquent of voice,
With enough vision through weather and wind
To see an aging tree of brown and withered
Leaves crumbling in hands and
Under feet, and know that it was you.
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