Poetry
The Show
The leaves have placed their ad
in the pages of the earth
Their yearly show, free
To all who have eyes to see, and time to look.
Do you have eyes?
Do I have the time?
Look, the show is on!
Red so intense to melt the coldest heart
(Better not to look too hard;
better to let it flow
Into and around the old and weary soul)
Look, the show is on!
Yellow so deep, the hand can reach right through
And keep reaching to eternity
(Better not to talk too much; better to let it speak
Its own mind; its own world)
Look, the show is on!
Orange so alive, the eye can see it quiver, vibrate and sing
(Better not to think too much
Better to let its moment come, and go
It will go soon enough)
So it was planned
Not to continue forever
Except in the heart and mind of the looker
To shower the world in explosions of love and light
And then, to go
After the greens of Spring
have fled
And the meeker colors
its strength disguised
Have their riotous day
In me, too
The Spring is gone, its hurried task done
Now let the colors of the fall, more beautiful yet
Have their day, and speak to some other weary looker.
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