Somehow a dead leaf got tracked inside.
I didn’t ask from whom or whence it came,
Only wondered, if I did nothing, would it remain.
The more I thought the less I did,
Philosophy’s contribution to underbid.

The leaf, brown and crisp and stale and old
Was passed by everyone and disregarded,
Perhaps preparation for the coming cold,
Summer’s dreams now retarded,
Yesterday’s heat burned away.

Nothing young can remain that way,
Merely born again everyday.

Posted in Perspective, Poem for Your Day, Poetry
One comment on “Everyday
  1. Maggie says:

    Your poem caught my attention today and caused me again to wish I had a deeper understanding of poetry. I like it very much. It demonstrates a depth of understanding of life I can appreciate. Thanks for sharing. Maggie