Original Poems

leaves are falling…

leaves are falling,
kids are in the park;
chilled, the air, and
gentle is the breeze

i walk by to
hear their shouting there:
football on the
lawn amid the leaves

shoes are wet with
drops of morning dew;
players call to
teammates for the ball

voices of so
many autumns past:
like an echo down
my lifeway’s hall

i am not a
player anymore;
when that last time
was, i can’t extract

it was when i
still ran with the fall —
before age and
corpulence attacked

walking on, i
see a distant hill:
out beyond the
sounds of that lone game

and i know, if
i’m not where i will –
i have only
my own self
to blame

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