Fallen Leaves

Look at the world before it disintegrates before your eyes.

This city is dead

What’s left of it

stands up straight

but will soon disintegrate

into the atmosphere

 

The leaves crackle against the ground

as the wind howls in the distance

 

For one man,

this place exists in the form of a memory

A memory of long ago

 

He smiles as he walks up the forgotten path

The dirt is so soft

The reminiscent days spent on the playground

rather than just the pile of rubble it is now

 

Every so often,

he’ll see a car drive by

or a person walking along the streets

Never stopping, only moving

 

Nobody wants to look past the city of rubble

and remember the days of happiness

No, they just throw on their raincoat

and shudder in the distance

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

This is a really deep write, Andy, people just are too busy to see their surroundings...as you stated in your poem, nobody wants to look past the city of rubble...the sad thing is the innovative people will build it up, and those who shudder in the past usually piggy back and take credit for it. It is what it is, at times. Life sucks most of the time. :)

[Andy Ruffett]

Couldn't agree more. We're an unaware society.