Wind caresses the dead brown crusty leafs
dragging them to oblivion and ignominy across frozen ground
Their carcasses lay strewn about too shredded even to rake
there will be no autopsies; ‘death by natural causation’.
Heavy Snows will blanket the carnage and soon be their pall.
They will have their cryogenic moments only to rot and decay
As a Spring sun reveals their disappearance in the yellow-wet grass.

Druidic imposters of faith will liken it to a necessary rebirth
Yet another ridiculous ‘phoenix-rises’ tale will be spun no doubt;
And believed on ignorant knees by almost everyone
But some will rise and scream against the cyclical absurdity of life,
Of pain and sorrow.
My rake is missing several teeth like an ole man;
I let it fall and go alone somewhere
Refusing to rattle the dice and go around the board again;
And next Autumn I will bed with the fallen leaves.

11/09/2010

Posted on 11/10/2010
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