deepundergroundpoetry.com
Autumn Leaves
My open window
even so late into the fall
invites autumn leaves
they tumble
and land
all of them,
they seem to land
on my bedside table.
"Close the window!"
Mama shrieks daily.
"I hate your precious leaves!"
My table has overflown by now
but my window is still open.
Some of the leaves are bagged
in my closet.
The rest are in neat little piles
until I can deal with them.
But the leaves on my bedside table
they stay
And they'll keep coming
just as long as I keep my window open.
For Colin, who was left speechless; and for Lisa, who knew the exact meaning with no need for me to speak a word.
even so late into the fall
invites autumn leaves
they tumble
and land
all of them,
they seem to land
on my bedside table.
"Close the window!"
Mama shrieks daily.
"I hate your precious leaves!"
My table has overflown by now
but my window is still open.
Some of the leaves are bagged
in my closet.
The rest are in neat little piles
until I can deal with them.
But the leaves on my bedside table
they stay
And they'll keep coming
just as long as I keep my window open.
For Colin, who was left speechless; and for Lisa, who knew the exact meaning with no need for me to speak a word.
Published 30th Dec 2009
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