Leaves Off To Tour The World Poem by Lazarus Knix

There’s something dark about a leaf,
Hidden in the tip of it’s skull.
Which taps the street so graciously
And sends crinkles about your block
Just long enough to make notice.

You always catch them off your guard,
A shriveled banner of crimson
Waving in the mid-autumn sun.
Not for any cause or nation
But in self- patriotism.

If you attempt to run with it,
The wind spurs back some other way.
What makes the freest spirits stay?
Nothing, they’re off when they leave branch;
To tour the world, to die in it.

Had I been given the offer;
Eternity in standing still,
I wonder if I would take it,
Or kindly refuse the contract,
And step outside of the garden-

Like they do, every autumn time.
Many leaves, off to tour the world.
To sacrifice their hanging peace.
To see what motion has to grant.
Many leaves, out to tour the world,
To tour the world, to die in it.