Salvadore Ponce De Leon


Dance, Dance, Dance


Sitting on the porch
Reclined in a wicker chair bearing the signs of it's age
I stare wistfully into the garden
Watching the grass, watching the flowers
Dance, Dance, Dance
They sway to the rhythm of the wind
I marvel at the leaves holding valiantly against nature
I see the dying leaves lose their battle with mother nature
They let go, flutter, swoop, drift to the ground
Their dance so beautiful yet so tragic
Dance, Dance, Dance
This is their final dance
Smooth and slow
Forever tumbling to the ground
Dance, Dance, Dance
This is the final dance

Salvadore Ponce de Leon

Submitted: Friday, August 23, 2013
Edited: Friday, August 23, 2013

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