A bed of Leaves

We strolled, I don't remember where now;
time plays such funny tricks that places
blend and all the colours mix together,
I can't high tune my hectic senses.

We talked about death, as stray drops
spattered through the trees, it was
Autumn and we walked a bed of leaves.

The dogs ran before us, making piles
of underfoot debris fly, just to fall, the
silent echo in a wood somewhere.

They say the mind blocks out,
protects us from ourselves, but oh
if I could just walk again with you;
instead I only dream of ghostly trails.

We talked of death, you held my hand
it was Autumn and the ground was covered;
Our steps muffled, walking on a bed of leaves.




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 708 times
Written on 2014-10-02 at 20:22

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I really like this one, Elle. Your memory is like some of mine, a little snippet, a contextless piece of film, which runs over and over.
2014-10-08



Lyrical, pensive. Funny how the changing of a season reminds us of past seasons.
2014-10-03


shells
Profoundly sad Elle, eloquent. It's the lines "they say the mind blocks out, protects us from ourselves," that seem to have written this piece.
2014-10-03