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Array
(
[sid] => 183792
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Three Dried Leaves
[time] => 2016-12-02 17:05:14
[hometext] => Hang in against life/'/s vagaries
[bodytext] => / I see outside my window a branch with leaves of three Though it once had many others the frost, the wind first burnt the colors then wind stripped it free. Leaves tremble, looking lost in all now but memory. Fragile looking and crumpled yet hanging there to see. They serve no other purpose but visual Long past days of beauty hanging tenuously Why? What restrains their leaving why or what purpose can there be? I often watch them in day and dusk Wondering how they manage against the storm of rain and wind of bending branch fluttering and corrupted by natures vagary On the morrow still I think The season narrows chances and yet I fret for I do not like their existing chances. There and there their silhouette first right then left in view winds of winter whisper through the glass and do shift and with increasing force they blew from side to side first this then that alternating askew Blackened three just those to see yet still they draw my glance as if they warn that the day forlorn Awaits us in our time. Holding on three leaves adorn that window branch I watch. A day or night will likely leave the branch bare and solitary For me others I seldom watch. One other leaf now like another. Enjoy the three and let them be a harbinger of change. Life too faces elements. Would life be so tenaciously holding, holding against those storms. Pooper [comments] => 2 [counter] => 104 [topic] => 64 [informant] => pooper [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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