Walking Towards Autumn To Rake Up The Leaves Poem by gregory collins

Imagine autumn leaves,
cheeks and arms red.

Only a breath for miles around.
Blue with wind inside no matter where we are.

Our newborn something no one else can see.
Is is so hard to remember if you have cried about them?

Or are you willing to become the example of what happens to someone,
who looks at the clock and those that drowned there;

Those who know life and death have worked well for centuries,
those who follow the tracks of the angels into a darkness i do not think of lovingly.