You are persistent.
While others dance their merry way across my path
You hold on tight as tight.
You really should be ready to go
You’re beautiful color tells me so.
You have taken all you can from that trunk.
The good from the wood.
You danced in summer
But it’s your time to leave.
Leave. Leaf. Leave.
But you’re holding out for something more.
A stronger gust from a different shore.
Why ? Isn’t it easier to just let go ?
What’s left for you here ?
The emaciated torso of an Atlas who once held up an emerald sphere.
But you are loyal.
And while the others rot and fade
The storm will not dissuade.
Maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe it’s Fall for them. But not for you.
We all go through different stages
Your last one now is in my pages
For you will not let yourself be taken
The winds of life have not yet shaken
The other leaves find you absurd
But you live on in poetic word.
The last to fall the last to leave
For you there is reprieve
I will take a second look
And press you forever into my book.