Wistful

by

Wesley A. Storer

The last of them can now no longer refrain
No longer from time's call may they remain
The November wind the last of them claims
You know of course I refer to the leaves
Falling on sidewalks and filling up eves
I swished through their wispy sienna seas
Reveling with their levity setting me free
I wished their cheerful brilliance to keep
In a special place somewhere inside of me
I trounced drifting rifts of merry melee
Like a madman gone nuts on a drunken spree
Like a prisoner from his dungeon released
Making the most of their moments with me
Wishing their cheerful brilliance to stay
Tromping the pomp of their stately ruins
Their lonely splendor's protégé I would be
And toward that noble end I went a-wooing
No amber pandering prurients can they be
magnanimous little critters of curious debris
Wistful little waifs of nature's tapestry
Their vivacious vibrancy of timely happency
The Chinese Elms' sheets of gold undoing
Scarlet Maple the Tanager's fire pursuing
Scampering and dancing mid rustling mutters
Dull glowering sky gave no time to putter
Their cheerful brilliance my mind to clutter
That lonely day of the first November rain
Their cheerful brilliance my mind did claim
Their innocent intimacy my journey sustained

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The Past
by: Lily
from: Denver, CO, US

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