it's a tap dance with
no rhythm.
it's a waltz
counting 3-2-1.
no square dance has
four corners.
the tango isn't
done with one.
the two-step is
out of step.
the last dance
will always be
ashes, ashes
we all fall down.
trying doesn't
feel like doing.
even the leaves
don't make sense.
when they dance
down the street
it sounds like rain.
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5 comments:
We have the sewer in front of our house i think the damn leaves that is where the dance is supposed to end...I know most of my neighbors believe that...which is why they are always praying for hard rains.
And the silver maples all look to the sky
with their underbellies peering up high...
Is that a rain cloud I see
with fresh water for you'n'me?
But oh the cold wind grabs at my brittle leaves and away they fly!
Those leaves are tricky.
At least twice a week I could SWEAR it's someone pulling into the drive. But, no. Just more leaves getting caught in a sudden stiff breeze and skipping off to who knows where.
This is beautiful and sad. Sending you a virtual hug.
Sad and frustrated is what I am.
Sending a hug back atcha, Freddie.
Bless you Darlin'.
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