walking to the mailboxes

[fledgist]

a gentle breeze that barely moves the leaves
afternoon sun that dapples the porch wall
who could guess on this day that the year grieves

pine needles piled up on the roof almost in sheaves
what set them there over the months of fall
a gentle breeze that barely moves the leaves

in this gloriousness of light one almost believes
that there's a power here that's far from small
who could guess on this day that the year grieves

one's tempted to say that the weather just deceives
what charms us now and keeps us here in thrall
a gentle breeze that barely moves the leaves

time and change we know that they're plain thieves
they'll leave us with nothing they will take all
who could guess on this day that the year grieves

the past looks on and catches our loose sleeves
we may smile now but latter we will bawl
a gentle breeze that barely moves the leaves
who could guess on this day that the year grieves