In days gone by
as leaves fall
on a kiss of wind
to the cold wet earth
The children whirl
trying to catch them
Small feet shuffle
kicking up leaves
clods of dirt fly
revealing hidden things

As new flashing colors fall
the tears of dying trees
caught by none
they run
breathless
off the beaten path
through the old woods
kicking up leaves
that land with wet sounds
Behind, the dogs run faster

Turn away, turn away
don’t listen as they fall
Hear the snap of branches
the piercing cries
and flutter of birds
pinions of their little wings
spread like tiny fingers
as leaves are stirred
tangled and crushed
beneath the loam

A rain of soft drops
spatter the leaves
as dirt clods fly
and land with wet sounds
Dig, uncover, dig again
until the earth
consumes us all
and whispered secrets
ride the wind like falling leaves
to cover what is left

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 1/1/1997
For all survivors of any form of rape or abuse; you are not alone. Speak out. Find your path to healing.

http://www.asashesscatter.com
wrr@asashesscatter.com
@AsAshesScatter

“Falling Leaves”

Survivors of child sexual abuse are as different as leaves in a wood, even when some of us come from the same tree.

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 7/13/2012