notice the plastic;
it is immortal. it
will never age (but by being forgotten);
and it shall never fall.

these fake leaves, they are monuments to forever.

they, laughing in the face of the mortals,
always forget their own shortcomings.

genuine emotion, fleshed out through
bright red|orange|yellow
eventually will fade into the lull.
but now, it is fall. look-
where does the beauty reside?

me and these trees,
we are kindred; sharing the common link of
the winter fade, and the spring rebirth.

meanwhile, the imposter sits casually,
isolated in the corner of an apartment.
never cared for. never tended to.

who is cursed with what,
and who is blessed with it's opposite?

these trees, their leaves are falling.
yet, they fall together;
only to soon rise again,

while the passing of time is unknown to the other.

01/10/2004

Author's Note: a rewrite of one of the only early pieces in my library i still like; "look at the leaves". i'll probably revise this; i realize that it's horribly choppy, and upon review, it really doesnt contain the charm of the first. this is almost industrial, it feels like. crits?

Posted on 01/10/2004
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