The Last Leaf Has Yet to Fall


Winter has come to erase color from the land,
Stripped every branch bare with his hand.
Plucked all earthen life with its blow,
And buried them six feet under the snow.

Winter, with his eyes numb and cold, slowly spoke:
All that lives in my kingdom, will be bound by yoke.
The spring’s fire will slowly fade,
The autumn’s harvest will be unmade.
All that is eternal and true,
Is a passionless death waiting for you.

But one last lead has yet to fall,
In the wind it stood, strong as a wall.
All around it, was white and pale snow,
Yet in a distance it saw, the sun of a new day glow.
The leaf let winter hear it sing,
Singing the arrival of next spring.

Winter plucked all earthen life with its blow,
And buried them six feet under the snow.
Still the leaf let winter hear it sing,
Singing the arrival of next spring.

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