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blabhabans22Poems
I stood in the rows of stones sitting in growing columns, as the trees littered the carefully laid orange and white wreathes with dying leaves. Pink chrysanthemums root readying for winter. I question why must we do these things; the dishes, brush our teeth, wear clothes, paint the baseboard, return things borrowed, fix the handle on the drawer. the sink may stink, but the flies well fed. bad breathe brings distance, but distance breeds fondness. and no one asks a nudist hermit to lose weight. These leaves within these stones tuck a blanket over the raw Earth, readying for winter, keeping warm the maggots and beetles. With the shadow of the raised scythe looming over us all, it’s silhouette shrinking as the sun leaves us I ask why, Why must we rake these leaves?
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Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
Why Must We Rake These Leaves?
I stood in the rows of stones sitting in growing columns, as the trees littered the carefully laid orange and white wreathes with dying leaves. Pink chrysanthemums root readying for winter. I question why must we do these things; the dishes, brush our teeth, wear clothes, paint the baseboard, return things borrowed, fix the handle on the drawer. the sink may stink, but the flies well fed. bad breathe brings distance, but distance breeds fondness. and no one asks a nudist hermit to lose weight. These leaves within these stones tuck a blanket over the raw Earth, readying for winter, keeping warm the maggots and beetles. With the shadow of the raised scythe looming over us all, it’s silhouette shrinking as the sun leaves us I ask why, Why must we rake these leaves?
blabhabans22
Written by
blabhabans22
American
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
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