Wednesday, October 12, 2011



I stood with the trees but the trees didn't care,
just fluttered their leaves to the moving air.
I stood by the creek as the tears ran hotter,
but creeks don't care, just move their water.
I stood in the shade of a passing boulder,
unmoved and unmoving; we grew silent and older.
I threw myself down in the arms of the grass,
but it whispered apologies and let me pass.
Nothing in this world can answer my heart
(how many the questions when once I start).
Nothing in this world can calm my grief
(how brief the glory of the flaming leaf).

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