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The Resting Foliage
The wooden bench,
Accommodating the passersby,
A life spent waiting and weathering,
Like a couple,
Anticipating a life full of adventures,
Instead fall into a routine,
Of loneliness and despair,
Doing the same thing each day.
Foliage falls,
Signifying another year’s passing,
Vivid colors blanket the ground,
A quilt sewn by memory,
Each leaf falls at its own pace,
Quavering as it finds its setting place,
Breaking the silence as it sets down,
Crunching under the stress,
Of the choices it made.
Like the bench,
Love sits and waits,
Like the wandering leaf,
Love shifts and shakes.
That's a sign of great love
Waiting till it seems nothing else
But sometimes get disappointed
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