It’s October again. Sadly, I have nothing to add to the tribute of a month that is simultaneously my most favorite and most un-favorite of seasons. I present, therefore, a rerun form two years ago while I contemplate creating some new content.
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower”–Albert Camus
Lest the general levity of this blog give you a false impression of my worldview, let me state that sometimes life sucks. For the most part, I use humor and satire as a defense and an escape, a diversion if you will. This has been an incredibly bittersweet week; I have never experienced anything remotely like it. My last post was Freshly Pressed–perhaps the ultimate honor for a WordPress blogger. Yet while this was going on, three people I know died. They were an 82-year-old uncle whose death had been anticipated, a 58-year-old work colleague whose demise was an unexpected shock, and most tragically, the 29-year-old son of one of my poker buddies whose death from illness had been feared for some time.
If you will permit me then, a tribute to these lost souls with the only piece of poetry I ever wrote which I would deem publishable. It’s well over 35-years old–the sort of thing one could only write in one’s youth.
The Leaves
Words ©1976, 2012 Mark Sackler
Sit and look at the leaves,
Amber arms descending from October’s trees.
Covering delicate grasses,
sweeping the highway,
bedding the rain,
Solemn songs to life departed,
Sit and look at the leaves.
