The Path

When I woke up from laying in the fresh cut grass.The fresh mowed lawn.The grass was freshly cut with a dew scent.The garden path was closed.

When I walked up to the garden,the drone sound of the awaken birds filled the air.They took flight after their search for food in the weeds. To see them find nothing was upsetting.

A tree near a wall stood alone. On the tree a single leaf of brown blew in the wind.It hadn’t been bothered, I think not,maybe it’s my thoughts that broke the peace, for the leaf came swirling down.

I stopped in the middle of my path, I picked up a faded petal. It was the last one around.That I shall give to you once again.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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