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Monday, September 10, 2012

The Leaves Will Not Fall Forever


In Autumn,
memories come,
cascading predictably
like leaves
off the trees,

and as the years
add up,
the pile of leaves
at my feet
comforts me,
but also reminds me
that the leaves
will not fall
forever
for me.

I do not gather my leaves
to be pressed in a book,
or burned in a pyre,
or squashed into mulch.

I collect my leaves into
a brittle bed,
and gently lay myself
upon them,
savoring their scent,
their ticklish scratching,
thankful that
I can still do so.

Looking up
at the increasingly
naked branches,
I try not to worry
about how many leaves
I have remaining,

but rather
just enjoy
the ones I’ve been
given today.

29 comments:

  1. I can't tell you how I relate to the scene you have described here and the emotions, which the shedding of leaves and the passing of days leave scored into the heart. Lovely poetry.

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    1. Thanks so much - I tend to get somewhat retrospective in Autumn as that's when I get a year older.

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  2. smiles...nice allusions to the season and life....and def dont worry how many leaves you have left...nothing you can do about that....but i really like the making of a bed of them...works really well as extended metaphor...

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    1. Thanks, bro, nah I don't worry about what's left on the tree - everyday I wake up I am thankful.

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  3. So beautiful, Mosk. A great reminder of to be "in the moment with gratitude"... I love:

    I collect my leaves into
    a brittle bed,
    and gently lay myself
    upon them,
    savoring their scent,
    their ticklish scratching,
    thankful that
    I can still do so.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Laurie. Yes, being in the moment is a lot harder than it sounds.

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  4. very difficult to do and always the battle...to be thankful instead of longing or regretful. Well done.

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  5. This is one of the best autumn poems I have read....I too get a little retrospective this time of year...the shift in the quality of light that is the harbinger of new keds and toughskins in every color for back to scool ( at least when I was growing up). I miss autumn, our autumn is so short in Phoenix, if we have one at all. Great writing, I loved it.

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    1. I feel your pain - I used to have to get the Toughskins in Husky! Oy! The indignity! Thanks!

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  6. this is beautifully written and the closing lines are perfect

    this reminds me to be thankful for what I have in life, even if some of those things are slowly slipping away

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    1. Yes, ever thankful is a good way to be - thanks.

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  7. I like the peacefulness of this and the unexpected description of you lying in your brittle bed of leaves. Nice work.

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  8. Yes, you are right on with this!! We just have to enjoy today, t....he leaves of today....whatever they bring me.

    My autumn poem:

    http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2012/09/september-again.html

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    1. That's all we have is today - muchas gracias!

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  9. A fine policy. I recommend beds made from leaves. I expect that one might have remarkable dreams there.

    PS--I hope you have lots n lots of "leaves" left. If you die, Mosky, I'll kill you! :-P

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    1. Thanks, and if I die, you can pretty much be sure, it wasn't my choice. :) I'm trying to live to at least 100, but since I'm under-height, that might be wishful thinking.

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  10. Anonymous6:10 PM

    I loved the thought of the autumn leaves being memories! :) Only I'm praying for you a whole forest full yet! :) Great poem, as always, poet friend! deb

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    1. Thanks - I can't take credit for this though, as I don't remember how I wrote it.

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  11. aww, Mosk. this is a lovely one, wistful and probing. memories like years. how right that sounds.

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    1. Thanks for writing your poem, which inspired this one.

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  12. Rather nostalgic and soothing. I like!

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    1. Thank you - yes, I get nostalgic in fall too.

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  13. Exquisite. I wish I wrote it. Leaf as memory--I too have piles. You speak my mind. I am keeping this poem. It's more true than nostalgic, it is the age I am.

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    1. Thanks - I'm glad it spoke to you.

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  14. Not hanging onto the leaves remaining, smart, bruddah... I would love to see you and your family, all on your backs in the crunching leaves! Riley's first real Autumn was when she was three (P.R. before then), and the crunch of leaves was, to her, a miracle. Nicely done, Mosk. Love, Ameleh

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