Leaves

Leaves unfurling like a thousand green spinnakers

Catching the wind

Each leaf its own tale

I read these trees

Through fresh green pages

Like reading the whispers of others

In this consequence of narrative

Where each tale is separate but connected

Like each green flag is anchored on branches

I hear each murmur that comes my way

Each note and comment adds to the story

That I piece together organically

So that even as I revel in today’s fresh green garments

I read foreshadowings of rusty autumn in the wind

When these solitary voices will be stripped away

And nobody will remember spring’s tale

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

Advertisements

4 Comments

Filed under Poetry

4 responses to “Leaves

  1. sarabarnes98

    Reblogged this on Writing Red Baron and commented:
    I really liked this piece. Probably because I’m reading Whitman, but it reminded me of “Leaves of Grass”.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s