Beautiful death
why is your realm bounded,
by hedge and tree
and shrubs and bush, surrounded?
My eyes...ensconced
on tones of autumn's tears,
the reds and golds
that log the passing years.
Then cast my gaze
on leaf and fruit descending,
to cloak the ground
with sacrifice unending.
To shower beauty
and to shower peace,
(the quiet storm
of autumn's quick release).
Oh years! Why do you plow
my face asunder,
with wrinkles, as the ground
I'll soon be under?
The tints youth
have faded ...are most gone.
The hopes of life
are dust and are...anon.
© Samantha 2004
