Monday, December 5, 2011


The Teen-in-Residence is reading Whitman for a school assignment, which led to questions about Meaning. I don't remember much about Whitman but do remember connections to nature and changing seasons. With temperatures dropping into the twenties, our season is changing here as well.

That last remaining leaf
on the windswept, proud pin oak
has earned my full respect

With her pluckiness and grit
I’m pulling for her
hoping she holds on tight
to the only life she knows

And when it’s time for her to leave
I hope it’s on her terms
that the fall to earth is gentle
her only sound a joyful noise

1 comment:

  1. You don't post often but little gems like this are worth waiting for.
    Your poem can be interpreted in so many different ways.

    It's preferably ideal to be in position of calling the shots when falling to earth or in my own particular case fast tracking away from it:)

    If you don't post again before Christmas,have a great holiday and enjoy everthing to excess.