|
Burning Leaves
i’m building a fire
to burn last year’s leaves,
some twigs dry and brittle
like bones between the trees,
but i’m building a fire mostly
to burn last year’s leaves.
strikes me as odd
how many have fallen
covering the lawn and filling the eaves;
taken for granted as one flowing green.
strikes me as odd how so many
have fallen unseen
i’m building a fire
to burn last year’s leaves
and twigs that i’ve gathered
blown down from the trees;
the ground fed by its own but
i’ve a fire to feed.
there’s a pile of newspapers,
old and recurring events,
all bound in neat stacks
wrapped tightly in twine.
i’ll bring them out to the fire
and burn them at the same time.
strange thing a fire;
better than water can clean:
fire’s forever and down to the bone;
water the surface, fire the being.
O sure there are ashes but ashes
keep their secrets unseen.
there’s a box of old photos
propping open a door,
and once i am gone
will mean something no more;
why wait till tomorrow for another to burn,
this duty is mine not for another to burden.
i’m building afire
to burn last year’s leaves,
raked from the shadows
to announce this year’s green.
strange how the new leaves
appear without being seen.
[Return
to Psychopoetica home page]
©The
contents of this page are copyright protected.
They may not be reproduced or distributed in any form without the written
permission of the copyright holder.
|
