Autumn Rose

by Autumn Writer

Copyright© 2011 by Autumn Writer

Poem Story: Each fall the garden sings its final song before winter.

Tags: Drama  

Little soldier, so proud you are in crimson tunic,

emerald epaulettes and matching pantaloons.

Stand tall and face bitter autumn winds

which scrape bare the once-green garden wherein once would parade

colored battalions in summer victories, too many to name.

Comrades all in crimson, pink, yellow, white

You knew them well in days of golden summer light,

But the wind; the cruel, autumn wind, must blow.

Stand tall, lonely face the autumn chill.

Colored tunics falter each dwindling day and

ever-lengthened shadows disguise their worth.

Summer glories seem not so long ago;

deserving they may be, reside in dusty memory.

The autumn wind may sting and tunics fade.

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