The Memories Poem by RIC BASTASA

the memories have become brown leaves
with the slight touch of the wind
this summer
all of them fall to the ground

some will be blown far away
some will stay and crack
and become dust
in a little while,

i will hear the sound of everything
the wind blowing,
the falling of the leaves
the cracking and
then how the dust
whispers

that it still want to stay and wait
even longer
for the next season of rain
like some seeds.