Autumn Scene - Poem by Adam Friedman
I can hear the soft, inviting
whisper of the wind,
as it blows gently
against my face.
I can see the tall, majestic trees
swaying in the distance,
their leaves gracefully
the ground becoming a fusion
of red, orange, yellow, and green.
the allure of the autumn day beckons me
to reflection of my love,
my love who like the leaves on the trees,
slowly drifts away –
where she too, soon,
will have forgotten me.
as my tears fall,
the scene blurs,
and the voice of wind
can offer no more encouragement.
for even with its mystic voice,
I cannot help but think of
the falling leaves:
yes, the tree will live on,
but the leaves -
while graceful in their descent -
will ultimately be
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