Carelessly strewn
Not a care
You throw them all about
Littering the lawn
Carpet of green covered
Reds and browns
Yellows and orange
I pick them up
You throw more down.
Every year
You never hear
The pleading
The begging
As the rake scrapes more
Wet and damp
Or dry and crackling
As the smoke rises
Your offering burns
Turning around
You give some more
Falling
And I wait
For the last one hanging
Taunting
One tree empty
Hundreds more to go.
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Peace, Love and Patchouli 
🙂 thank you 🙂
LikeLike
Pingback: Jumble Spoiler – 11/05/14 | Unclerave's Wordy Weblog
It was meant in fun my friend 🙂 i love the trees…i live in the woods after all 🙂
LikeLike
This poem is strange and kind of ironic. Personally, I think not having a traditional lawn, so you don’t have to rake leaves, is the best way to avoid feeling this way about trees.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will send some wet rainy vibes to the sky on your behalf…we e gotten 4.2 inches october alone…i wish i could bottle it abpnd send to you 🙂
LikeLike
That time of year is just beginning here in Central California…last winter was so dry that not all the leaves fell, making the spring foliage look very strange. We are praying for rain. – Fawn
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha…..litter trees…..they keep falling 🙂
LikeLike
Stay up there! Stop falling! Stupid leaves! 😉 … Thanks, Kim. Now I’m smiling widely! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on IdealisticRebel's Daily View of Favorites.
LikeLike