Fallen leaves dance in a frenzy down the street,
Devilish dervishes driven by a whirling wind,
Dancing to a tune which has forever lost its beat,
Seeking solace in a rooted hand their dance to end.

Fallen leaves trembling amidst vectors with no control,
Scurrying hastily along with others of their kind,
Having neither visible purpose nor lofty goal,
No unison with one another and no grasp to bind.

Autumn leaves, crumpled, tattered, and ugly brown,
No dreams of spring, no hint of the vital green,
No gleam of their once brightly colored gown,
Definitely not a creature with beauty to be seen.

Ugly autumn leaves, contemptuously blown by fate,
A scourge to all the landscapes along the street,
As they cling desperately to any estate of weight,
In trivial, trifling hope their final doom to cheat.

Fallen leaves dance in a frenzy down the street,
Not gently treated by the ill and foreboding wind,
Perpetually dancing in a frenzy on futile feet,
Nature’s quintessential plan to negate or rescind.

All we like leaves will dance down the streets of life,
Having lost our attachment, with yet another to find,
Flailed by fortune, and stricken amongst bitter strife,
Seeking a haven to which our fate may be consigned.

| Return to Poetry Index |
| Seniors-Site Homepage | E-Mail | Site Master |