Rodak's Writings: A Poem

X

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Autumn Leavings


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx My first-born child
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx has turned 21.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx After you’ve spanned it a few times,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 21 years goes by like (snap!).

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Ah, but then I must be
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx good as dead.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I’m putting my papers in order,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx archiving the meantime.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I’m hanging all my sketches,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx prior to the dying of the light.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I’m putting my papers in order,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx and this is one of them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I’m putting my papers in order order,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx and hope to have time left over

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx to righteously file
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx the shuffled leaves of my soul.

X

X

X

X