I discovered an old notebook the other day, full of poem drafts I wrote during the spring seven years ago. (Half the sweet girl's life ago!) A lot of the drafts are still incomplete and need work, but one poem, filled with word play, felt ready...and made me smile. And I think after being stuffed away in a notebook for seven years, it's definitely time for its debut.
Leafing and Leaving
Leaves aren't leaving
in the spring.
They've only just arrived.
They do their leafing
fresh and green
when all is new outside.
They do their leaving
in the fall
dressed to the nines
in red and gold.
They only whisper their goodbyes
when the year is growing old.
EMP, 4/2010
No comments:
Post a Comment