Sep 2017
Bright fall leaves hold branches of thick fall trees,
They hug them tight against the brisk fall breeze.
None fall to the road, they leave it clear,
And thank you for that, for I shall pass here,
And onwards and forwards, I will wander on,
Farther and farther, it is time to be getting gone,
For this road stretches on through tunnels of fall leaves,
Over hills and under skies, between walls of fall trees.
Where it ends, I do not know,
But that is where I intend to go,
Here, it is fall with its leaves and its trees,
But onwards march and what shall be seen?
Will there be beaches of bright white sand?
Or dark black sand? Or another brand?
Where the fall leaves point lies my compass needle,
And just behind I, though, sometimes feet are feeble,
But I suppose fall trees will give strength where I lack.
Is that not the purpose of their bark at my back?
But while their color is strong, fall leaves are feeble as feet,
And will be swept away by storm someday, swept by winter breeze,
And the dead winter leaves will make cold winter trees,
So cold that winter branches will freeze.
And with branches, too, shall I?
When the ice freezes fast, shall I?
And shall I follow the leaves that disperse with the season?
Or shall I settle down? I have every reason.
There are tests that need taking, diagrams need gluing,
Study cards need making, work that needs doing,
Winter...will that be it, with schooldays I must attend?
Does my road stop running around in loops and bends?
...So, is this where my adventure ends?
Will my adventure be swept with fall leaves in winter winds?
No, I let it not, as fall is here and time is great,
So I won’t let myself think of winter hate,
There is good that comes with changing seasons, too,
And every wanderer must rest sometimes, it’s true.
But for now I will run, like the brisk fall breeze,
And wind up somewhere new by the winter freeze.
(Maybe, just maybe, far enough away,
That I’m not there on that first school day).
The sky hides behind the bushy fall trees, invitingly,
But sits so softly and asks so quietly,
So the road is serenely empty, open for me,
So I will go and see what I shall see.
And if you like...maybe…
You could come with me?
They hug them tight against the brisk fall breeze.
None fall to the road, they leave it clear,
And thank you for that, for I shall pass here,
And onwards and forwards, I will wander on,
Farther and farther, it is time to be getting gone,
For this road stretches on through tunnels of fall leaves,
Over hills and under skies, between walls of fall trees.
Where it ends, I do not know,
But that is where I intend to go,
Here, it is fall with its leaves and its trees,
But onwards march and what shall be seen?
Will there be beaches of bright white sand?
Or dark black sand? Or another brand?
Where the fall leaves point lies my compass needle,
And just behind I, though, sometimes feet are feeble,
But I suppose fall trees will give strength where I lack.
Is that not the purpose of their bark at my back?
But while their color is strong, fall leaves are feeble as feet,
And will be swept away by storm someday, swept by winter breeze,
And the dead winter leaves will make cold winter trees,
So cold that winter branches will freeze.
And with branches, too, shall I?
When the ice freezes fast, shall I?
And shall I follow the leaves that disperse with the season?
Or shall I settle down? I have every reason.
There are tests that need taking, diagrams need gluing,
Study cards need making, work that needs doing,
Winter...will that be it, with schooldays I must attend?
Does my road stop running around in loops and bends?
...So, is this where my adventure ends?
Will my adventure be swept with fall leaves in winter winds?
No, I let it not, as fall is here and time is great,
So I won’t let myself think of winter hate,
There is good that comes with changing seasons, too,
And every wanderer must rest sometimes, it’s true.
But for now I will run, like the brisk fall breeze,
And wind up somewhere new by the winter freeze.
(Maybe, just maybe, far enough away,
That I’m not there on that first school day).
The sky hides behind the bushy fall trees, invitingly,
But sits so softly and asks so quietly,
So the road is serenely empty, open for me,
So I will go and see what I shall see.
And if you like...maybe…
You could come with me?
