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Leaves Like Petals Fall ©

Marc R. Sherland
Glasgow, Scotland
2005

See how the fallen leaves, cleave, cloy the stone,
All shades of vibrant autumn that knew life,
Sprouted of their stock, shared the daily strife,
Then did scamper, frolic, march, free to roam.
But why are trodden rutted by the sole ?
Casually crumpled, weathered by rage,
Decayed by natureís time, but not by age,
Why have fell, have fallen, do fall, this toll ?
The rock is cold, hard, but no moss grows here,
Stone shaped cruciform, are sprinkled like stars
in rows to huddle countryside, and steer
the eyes to furrows, plough rows, wounded scars.
See now the callen weave their weft alone,
And the windís whipped voice, whines with ghostly moan.



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