Challenge
"I'm not sure why every leaf must die..."
Create a poem with this beginning.
Freedom of the Leaves
I am the leaf
blowing in the wind
falling into dust
of autumn’s end
Death lingers
to capture
grey bones
and loose skin.
Severed from life
no longer
touched by love
hours hovering
at midnight.
I have wandered far
wasted dregs
forgotten and alone
equalized by death
churned into leaves
strewn at my feet
where I must rest
in the freedom
of the leaves.
18
7
30