September winds send tired leaves astray

Once upon a windy night..

I hear the carnage unfolding.
A raging wind blows fierce.
Felling memories.
Whimsical flakes of rust flail hopelessly.
The few, weathered too well, are the victims.
Weak and powerless.
Their delicate see-saw descent, but a torn dream.
Detaching before times allowance.
Blazing howls tear un-prepared umbilical cords.
Crimson fury screams the sky.
I scramble to snag a few,
just to hold them in their infant sobs.
Caressing their early departure.
I am but a witness, of un-timely execution,
and would build a grave for each If I could.
Secrets they harbor, yet unable to speak of them.
But I listen..
Their tales of Spring and Summer,
Cast somewhere within invisible whispers.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Theartofburning]

Ah, the way you write..

You see things in a way that most people never would.
So delicate, and sorrowful this piece.

"I am but a witness, of un-timely execution,
and would build a grave for each If I could."

but your lines..
They are flawless.
Wonderful write!

[Astral_Tides]

One of those moments where.. environments align.
Crafting scattered thoughts.
And they find their place through atmosphere.
Thank you for your warm sweet share moonbeam architect.

[Enid Blake]

This strikes me as such an intense description. At first I will admit I was a little lost in analysis, but then when I reread the title and the poem, it makes perfect sense. It's really good ;)