One Last Time
Before the trees begin to fall
I’ll take a walk
through the woods
one last time,
hear the leaves glistening
and shaking
in fear of what is to come
some are already fallen
it’s the season for it
after all.
I’ll see the light shining
lighting on the leaves of grass
that push soft spikes of green life
in between the fallen
see the light shining
through the trees
one last time.
It lights up the white crosses
chalked on the trunks
as it passes by
too many white crosses
all ready
to mark the graves
of the fallen.
It’s the season for it
after all,
always the season for it
one more time.

About This Website
In this poetic call of his, he urges the poets of the generations to come after him to pick up the torch and carry the tradition onward. What better way to celebrate Walt Whitman's 200th Birthday than put together an anthology celebrating the Poets who came after him?The "Poets to Come" as Whitma...


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