Falling Leaves

by Stephen Damon

Like free-falling leaves
At the end of summer
My memories fill the air.

I try to grasp one
Then another, but I can
Not catch them all.

Soon the ground will be covered
In sunburned colors of autumn
And the trees will be bare.

I let go of hundreds of years
Open my hands and walk, silent
Watching my silhouette

Fade like the shadows
And sorrows of a thousand
Forgotten dreams.

Bows,
Stephen