Leaves of Time

Now crackled brown and always drifting

With the breeze they tumble, sifting.

I love the leaves, that sing their story

Of summer days and all their glory,

 

When dark brown limbs gave birth to green

That fluttered gently in the breeze,

 

Then pass their time, so it is with us

Our sap now dried and turned to crust.

 

The leaves of time blow in the wind

Reminding us of now and then,

 

Of our summers, blessed with sun

Our limbs so strong and primed to run.

 

Seems long ago, the days so bright

Our once strong limbs withered in the night

 

Growing soft, and growing old

No longer thoughts of strong and bold.

 

And now we’re drifting with the wind

The leaves of life, the weathered limbs.

 

 

        William Stroud