The Interactive Poetry Pages
Salon of Solo Poetry for Critique - Two
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Poem Number 1739
perfection unattainable
will remain so until
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Poem Number 1740
CYCLES
Born in the Spring in the warmth of sunlight,
a crimson leaf now topples from a tree
in the frosty breeze of an Autumn day.
It will wither and decompose to dust.
The parallel to human existence coincidental.
A body born from the warmth of the womb
will mature to a useless state,
become shriveled and worn with decaying mind.
Reverting to the earth from which it came.
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Commentary:
This is a poem,not a bunch of garbage. Keep up the good work
---RJ
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