Two Leaves
Two girls lived upon Sycamore.
Close as any friends were before.
Despite rainy, spring day
They'd laugh and they'd play
In matching green dresses they wore.
Said one to the other in May,
"My dear, you look pretty today
In your beautiful dress.
What a grace you possess.
Forever will we be this way!"
But as time went by and they grew
The winds of change came blowing through.
Though neither knew why
And they still lived nearby
The times that they shared became few.
As dog days of summer lolled by
The ground like their friendship went dry
They both suffered alone
Thinking, "Now that I've grown
She has long since cast me aside."
At last on one September night
Beneath a pale harvest moon light
When neither expected
They both reconnected.
She said, "My dear, aren't you a sight!"
"Your dress, oh the color transcends
Though wrinkled and curled at the ends,
And see, mine is the same."
And once more they became
The closest and dearest of friends.
But each colder day that went past
Twas shorter the rays the sun cast.
Soon their generation
Succumbed from their station,
But they and their friendship held fast.
Together on winter's first freeze
They exhaled the autumn's last breeze.
With their stems intertwined
If you search you can find
Lightly buried in snow: Two Leaves.
9/15/2016
Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2016
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