Olives by Wendy Flora
They say that the season of death is winter...
They are wrong.
It is the fall.
Fall is when everything dies...
Leaves turn and fall
Grass withers
Flowers fade.
They say the color of death is black...
They are wrong.
The colors of death are red
And brown
And gold.
When I'm walking alone
Through the leaves, I think on this.
I always thought that rotting leaves
Smell like olives.
They are wrong.
It is the fall.
Fall is when everything dies...
Leaves turn and fall
Grass withers
Flowers fade.
They say the color of death is black...
They are wrong.
The colors of death are red
And brown
And gold.
When I'm walking alone
Through the leaves, I think on this.
I always thought that rotting leaves
Smell like olives.
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I was walking around my college campus this last fall, through the leaves, and the smell of the leaves evoked this poem.
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You put alot of feeling in this while you were out walking in the leaves is what it made it so great - Bill |
