Leaf
A display of warmth and blush would once make its way down the tree.
Gracefully it left, like a final bow at the end of a play; so frail, yet, quite tender to the eyes of the admiring audience.
Mornings pass dressed in suites and ties, carrying a briefcase of winter clouds.
Mucky leaves now slop their way around, hitching a ride on the nearest boot or swift ambulance.
Still, some stay close to home; never gliding too far past its trunk.
They watch lovely arms that once held them tight.
Rest and sway... a mother rocking her empty cradle
Copyright © Nicole Johnson | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment