Leaves Poem by Steven B Taylor

Memories


Leaves

Opus 38

Leaves!

Fall!

Childhood memories of
Raking up huge piles
And hiding in them.
The smell of burning leaves
On the crisp autumn air.
Coolness of the evenings
The lingering twilight
Apple cider,
And hobgoblins!
The leaves brought us together.
Many the nights
We sat on the curb and talked.
Watching leaves burning
Imaginations wandered
To witches brew.

The leaves have died
When they fall to the ground.
Their corpses cover our lawns.
Will we have as many uses?
Dead, as alive?

'Unless a stalk of wheat
Withers and dies,
And falls to the ground,
It shall not live! '

Steven B. Taylor