Hi, everyone! With this article, I’ll be sharing a poem I wrote over the summer. I thought that, because of its darker feel, it may be relatable for some of you since the start of the semester is always rather stressful and overwhelming. I have many lighter, softer poems, but figured the onset of the cold, September air (at least that of Western PA) would pair nicely with the other reason listed above for why I chose to share this article. I hope you enjoy!
Leaves
The tree is full one moment
Bare it is the next.
Alive; Interact; Member
Of it all until
Falling; fallen in a sec-.
Dead, mute, separate.
The moments are explained as
Seasons; natural
And predictable enough.
Routine. Seen. But of the sec-?
What are the seconds
That we have to consciously
stop, squint, and speak to
know of their place in between?
The happenings that are kept
Close to the tree and the ground.
Never to be voiced
When in the open, cold air.
The point of change, of turning
Rushed by our keen ignoring.
Not to concern one!
Life follows death; Soon again
Member, Alive, so
Interact! Cause of one’s leave
Is not of interest to
The tree and forest, full now.
Thanks for reading!
Sarah Miller