Winter Interlude I
Now the copper leaves are underfoot
Their softened matter does not matter;
Once the aspiration, the respiration of trees
Now the sad, shed garments of disease
And like the seasons, humankind rolls on.
And we, discarded, take our turn to fall.
Hell then - in the Summer of our years
Show your fire, for soon it disappears.
In the Winter, let our passing feed
A better Spring, full-filled with futureseed
I hope to be the richness young ones need
To change, improve. To them I wish 'Godspeed.'
React
Comment
Share
