Poem - Leaves Fall

A neighbor’s brush fire reminded me of many campfires experienced in past times during this turn of the wheel. The poem “Leaves Fall” is about a special place to my heart, one I will visit soon.


Leaves Fall

The leaves fall to the ground
orange and red in dead glory
as the smoke drifts from the fires
lit to forestall the coming chill

as the dance bears flesh to mind
warm by flame both in and out
the souls passed observe the rest
as all move in rhythm’s hand

drums played as single beat
pressing veils most see as fixed
shimmering with intent’s goal
of crossing over for a single night

to the Glen the faes return once more
invitation to visit familiar ground
never far from the sacred grove
now flit amongst the dancers there

amongst the leaves as they fall
with memories found in their repose
dancers, drummers, faes, and fires
in the face of the coming chill.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161001.