seasons

her mind has taken the place of leaves

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her mind has taken the place of leaves

each spring as the sun melts the remnants of winter’s last storm

a budding thought trickles in

sprouting greener than any other

in the summer that thought flourishes

soaking up the sun

and providing a cool place

for others to lay

but as the heat grows

those leaves dry and become brittle

she doesn’t mind

because she loves the reds, oranges, and yellows

in fact

she can’t think of anything she loves mind

when finally short days are followed by cool nights

and the wind knocks loose the leaves

her mind rests peacefully

knowing this is the process she must endure

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her mind has become a leaf

Posted on

her mind has become a leaf

each spring
as the sun melts the remnants
of winter’s last storm
a budding though trickles in
sprouting greener than any other

in the summer
that thought flourishes
soaking up the sun and
provides a cool place
for others to lay

but as the heat strengthens
those leaves dry and become brittle
but she doesn’t mind
because she loves the reds and oranges
that surround her

in fact

she can’t think of anything she loves more

when finally
short days are followed by cool nights
and the wind knocks loose the leaves
her mind rests peacefully
knowing this cycle is vital to her survival

it has been days since we spoke

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it has been days since we spoke

since I felt your touch

or heard my name ever so softly on your lips

 

when you left

a fire was extinguished

its flames snared by the snow that came with December

 

the last lingering of its smoke dissipated

as the new year rung in

 

for months I sat under the shade of the old oak

doing nothing more than

 

wishing

hoping

&

waiting

 

for something to change

for some sign that your leaving was not forever

that you would one day come back and once again free my soul

 

as the seasons changed I watched

looking in at the world around my from a pane of one way glass

so impenetrable it could not be broken by anything

 

or anyone

 

as a bird chirps in the tree above me

the sun in the sky radiates my soul

 

its warmth the only warmth flowing through my veins

weaving through to my heart

 

a heart that has been covered in ice

shut off from the world

 

as small flakes fly off and scratches are made

I feel a change

a shift

in not only myself but the world as well

the hill

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the hill

is his place of comfort

its plush green grass provides a seat unlike any other

soft

warm

cool

it is all that he needs it to be

 

from this spot he watches

 

he watches as the sun slowly starts to hide itself

vibrant green leaves change to red

before falling into piles that dampen your foot

or crunch with every step you take

he watches as the snow fall blankets his world

and covers the tops of the buildings in the city below

 

he watches children chase each other

sprinting ahead at the last minute

 

he watches as traffic stalls in the city

horns blaring and beeping

echoing through the sky

 

when he’s on the hill

he acts as a sponge

soaking in the world around him

continuing to grow

learning how to get by in the world around him

 

each day he descends from the hill is stronger

a better version of himself

and he tries not to let that fade

as he joins the masses on the streets

 

he feels

alone

until the heavy wood door clunks behind him

whisking up an aroma of aged wood and fresh bread

and he feels once again what it is like to breath

the leaves have disappeared

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the leaves have disappeared

from the trees

 

a few remain

s     a     e     ed

.  c     tt     r

amongst the grass

losing its form

brown seeping through the green

squishing under my every step

 

I have now reached the sidewalk

whose color mimics that of the sky above

a lone red leaf lays flat

stuck to the grisly gray surface

creating a stark distinction between fall and winter

 

I hesitate

not wanting to step on it

not wanting to embrace the turning of the season

holding strong to the colors of fall

that are slowly escaping

and bringing about them change

the tree in the meadow is my friend

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the tree in the meadow is my friend

 

during the spring its new (l)(e)(a)(v)(e)(s)

protect me from the rain

we watch the flowers bloom

and the fields turn green

 

during the summer its long, sinewy branches and leaves

protect me from the scorching sun

while we read an old tattered book

or try to write one

 

during the fall my friend begins to lose its leaves

at the end of one branch

a lone, red (leaf) hangs

waiting to fall off

I watch it carefully

holding on to the thought

that it will never fall off

 

but it does

 

and during the winter

it stands tall but lonely

our friendship weakens

if only briefly

until the cold air starts to turn warm