we have become old... <br />and have earned this time <br />of turning... turning wind, <br /> <br />turning leaves.... day turning <br />to night with a suddeness. <br />every stroke of color, <br /> <br />every shade of black and white... <br />and this sudden chill brings <br />a warmth that our lives define! <br /> <br />our passion is falling <br />like leaves to carpet the earth.... <br />our bare limbs reach heavenward... <br /> <br />to God, or the next page... <br />we wait on the snow, <br />and the small fires the living <br /> <br />build to light the way.... <br />we are the song of autumn... <br />the wind that fills the empty <br /> <br />pages of forever with human hands.... <br />old warriors, and lovers, <br />whose touching defines the night!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-of-autumn/
