Sweeping
Walking home from work, one windy autumn eve
I noticed some workmen sweeping up leaves,
The more leaves they swept, the more the wind blew
So I stopped to watch for a moment or two
One man swept the leaves into piles on the street
But the wind would sweep them from under his feet,
Another put the leaves into sacks that he had
I thought the whole scene was comically sad
Mother Nature had worked hard, for most of the year
Producing the leaves on the trees for us to share
Now they were being swept away without a care
As the wind blew the leaves away again, I was glad.
Perhaps the wind was Mother Nature’s only way of fighting back
She didn’t want to be reduced to life within a sack
To go from splendour, to squalor, in the space of just one season
She wasn’t going to disappear, not without good reason
The wind blew again, with all of its might
That’s when the workmen gave up for the night
As they packed their tools and left the scene, I carried on for home
The wind began to die away; Mother Nature’s fight was won.
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