The Last Leaf [Poetry]

After Robert Frost

by Vanessa L.

The last leaf falls slowly, fluttering down

As though alight on the wind of my breath.

It joins the eddy, the abdicated crown

That once with its presence brought death.

The branches wither, those charred black hands

Which held orb and sceptre, but let them both fall

When the bitter cold winds invaded its lands

And sieges of white ravaged its fortress wall.

The brown velvet robe of thin sodden leaves

No longer drapes over hills, the red battle-front.

The wind flattens the ocean of grass by the sheaves

As the harshness of winter begins its first hunt.