A thousand leaves had fallen <br />the day he chose to go, <br />so many thoughtful colours <br />perched on a drift of snow. <br />The preacher and his flock <br />were out to hike for God <br />collecting pious thoughts <br />to add to ancient stock. <br />They sang of truth and love <br />of brothers in the fold <br />and from the sky above <br />unbidden now and cold <br />came flakes of crystal ice, <br />invisible their path <br />a nuisance had been sent <br />perhaps it was God's wrath <br />they sang, God, we repent. <br />And in the tallest tree <br />a spider's child observes <br />just how a spider weaves <br />a net of lines and curves. <br />Gone was the pile of leaves.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-pile-of-leaves/
