My Life In Word

Dirt and Leaves

Dirt and leaves beneath my feet,
crushed by rain and summer heat.
Brown and gold, they twist and spin,
hiding all that sleeps within.
The wind arrives and makes them dance,
lifting each by happenstance.
Then down they fall, as seasons please,
soft as whispers through the trees.
Dirt and leaves, the old earth knows,
from what has fallen, something grows.
For every ending underneath
begins again in dirt and leaves.

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Alexey Demidov on Unsplash

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