Fall of a Melancholic
Tracing back…
that is what I am doing now,
just tracing back
along this woodland path,
in an attempt to grasp remnants
of a time
when I felt so alive, yet dying.
Thoughts and memories,
they fall like these leaves,
a melange of confusion, beauty and frailty
Swept away by the wind, scattered
or swept into a pile, unified.
Either way, they can be stomped on,
brittle leaves crushed into a satisfying crunch.
All around me,
there’s a profusion of vermilion, gold and copper
but those reds have always been my favorite—
so alive, yet can also mean bleeding.
I see a pumpkin carved out,
a creepy smile adorning its face
A chuckle escapes from my lips,
remembering that time
when laughter lived in harmony
with love.
Now, I am not sure anymore…
Because how can something
that had so much hope, so verdant,
change?
I am a fool, for the answers
are so obvious—
I only need to look at these leaves.
So much like our lives, these seasons…
Not very long,
I will be staring up at argentine skies.
The thought of it gives me chills—
I pray for spring.
09272011336p414
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
