It's supposed to be a secret
but I heard the doctor
from the other side of the door
He said, "Susan,
I would start making
preparations.
I don't think you can make it past fall."
and the leaves are falling
drifting away
Daddy's rake
scrape scratch screech
in the cold
Scotch tape
so strong at holding ribbons together
tears on the dry branches
and doesn't stand a chance against the wind
The leaves I collect from the ground
yellow leaves
Mama's smiles that I love so much
red leaves
Mama's love for all of us
brown leaves
crumbling in my fingers
Mama's delicate frail body
and no more
green leaves left
When Mama walks into the yard
wheezing from the cold
she sees me
and cries because
Scotch tape will never
keep leaves on branches
Comments
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This is so sad,I read your reply to Windhover which obviously helped a great deal,i like the way you have written about the different coloured leaves in consecutive lines,it adds something wonderful to this poem,
I love it,well done
rhet
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Thank you, I'm glad you liked it!!
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Extra poignancy
Wonderful use of metaphor makes this very poignant. I hope it's a purely 'creative' piece. Nice work. >W< -
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Thank you, let me tell you the whole story, Susan was very ill and the doctor told her that she wouldn't be able to live past autumn and her six-year-old daughter wasn't supposed to know but she overheard the converastion, and then Susan saw her daughter in the yard gathering leaves from the ground and using Scotch tape to try to attatch them to the trees so that autumn wouldnt end, it's so sad but it's a true story, I didnt know them personally but someone told me about it
anyway thats all, thanks for commenting, I'm glad you liked it
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