Death Series 8 - Falling Leaves
The trees stood tall through early months,
and without hindrance they staked their claim,
'til autumn’s harsh indifference came.
Summer had it's blissful time,
Until autumn’s ending date,
revealing - that autumn is never late.
The season shall begin it’s work,
Turning all to deepest gold,
Taking life, changing young to old.
It shall write a grievous story,
That contains the most final of endings,
Pen poised, it starts the final chapters
To usher in winter’s restful ending.
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Comments about this poem (Death Series 8 - Falling Leaves by Ciaran Quirke )
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