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

lying

dying,

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.

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