Achim Wollscheid Poems
- Every Dying Color Lays In The ... Fall is damned! Every ...
- Sadness I keep it in my pocket, so to speak, this ...
- A House Is The Building Or Str...
- Are Dreams Escapable? In dreams is there ever a decisive ...
- I'Ve Got Friends
- Blatancy Why is the world so openly blatant? To my left the...
- Programmers You are not aware of another environment Because...
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Every Dying Color Lays In The Street
Fall is damned!
Every leaf of every tree sheds
as the balding of a man's head.
The pigments are beautiful,
but they're trampled on the ground:
the oranges, yellows, reds and browns!
My eyes find the most horrendous thing;
children plummet into the heaps
that I submissively raked up yesterday.
Each day in Fall I wake from a torpid nature.
It pains my limping limbs;
the eyesore of many gardening tools.
Why can it not be the time of fresh new ways?
When the weather is warm and replenishing
like the admirable season, Spring.
Always, around this ...