My brain is a raindrop on dead leaf.
It provides no nourishment, and it's useless.
Dripping down its shaft in September,
my brain reverses:
guided by gravity as it heads to its inevitable absorption
where it will remain in grounds of the school classroom
trying to grow a tree.
And when its leaves wilt in early summer
without sufficient water,
my brain will go through evaporation
and rain down in June
on another dead leaf.
Comments
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stunningly beautiful.
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This was very good. Full of imagery. I enjoyed reading this. It was well done. Thanks so much for entering and best of luck to you in the contest.
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The idea of the contest was the poem must have won a trophy before.
you have me at a bit of a loss cus i really like this poem
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