Friends who fade away
like dead autumn leaves
scattered about the earth-
without a trace,
they dry up and crinkle
deserting me with a loud mess
behind them everywhere they go.
Kindness is sort of like the wind
that blows them off my branches for me.
He's my friend until our lives are complete,
depending on who dies first,
him or me, at least he returns for me,
and of course I'm that tree.
This star that shines closest to me,
the sun,
is not always some heavenly abode
hanging out up in the sky above.
Sometime's I only see it's light in the darkness-
reflecting from the winter snow
while my roots freeze over below.
The thought of you leaves
tend to be the bitter coldness winter brings,
because I know you're buried
somewhere under the layers
of ice, snow, slush
and memories of who we use to be.
I live knowing I'll have lush green new leaves
when spring arrives again someday,
they too will wilt away in an autumn breeze.
Just like that, no goodbye-
I will never see you again.
