Wednesday, January 7, 2009

dance (a fall poem)

from the bare branch it buds
drawing strength it grows
with many siblings
consumes sap and light
and mystery and wonder
takes it shape
green it works and gives
growing old
glorious it shines

and in one final moment
lets loose
swirls and sways on the wind
a single brief ecstatic dance

with its siblings
carpets the mountain path in splendor
and returns to the dirt.

1 comment:

Betty McNeely said...

I claim this poem for my own since we saw the falling leaf and I suggested it :) OF course, I never knew it would be THIS beautiful! Smooches!