Dead Leaf Story
A steamy saga of intrigue and espionage (with a little gardening thrown in for good measure.)
The compost was queried by the morrows tending:
Did fate mete trust to qualify this rending?
And in kind defy Falls’ passing dream
To quantify life’s smolder and steam?
Little of anything by compost was said,
As the torturous draught spread it with dread.
Cast off, away, for no home will return,
Reduced to a recipe as the gardener’s fork turns.
Then cried the compost, as leafy remains
“See how this wind does carry my friends,
They scurry in a flurry, blind to this end,
And such are new fuel for the steam in the wind.”
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Comments about this poem (Dead Leaf Story by Marck Riggins )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- "Hope" is the thing with feathers, Emily Dickinson
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne