by Don Ones
(Johannesburg, Gauteng, South Africa)
Upon reflection of my life in puddles of summer rain.
I can't but help to notice that my branches are bare with but few yellow and orange leaves?
... leaves breaking away in the gust of broken dreams ...... spiraling towards the
grave in which my roots are withering.
What have I done..... have I squandered the fruits of my labour ...... I have been ravaged and plundered!
It happened so suddenly ....... so soon ....... so unexpectedly!
Toxic have the soil I stand in become ........ where once, I stood so tall.
Now I shall fall into an early deciduon, from which spring shall not revive me .......
I pray the precious seeds of my life to enrich the world - remarkable they are!
Do not mourn my felling, as I have lived a bountiful life.
Wizdom is the rain that is my eulogy .......
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