By Dave Hood
In the woods and cold, where there is silence and stillness,
I stroll along a path—with only my pressing thoughts
of “what might become of tomorrow.”
And then, yellow, autumn maple leaves grab my attention
for a moment.
There is beauty in this simplicity, I think to myself.
Inspired, I remove my camera from the knapsack,
focus the lens on these delightful leaves, press the shutter button.
A moment in time captured forever.
Then I hear rustling from behind,
as though someone else is here.
A gust of wind has visited unexpectedly,
The Leaves, the ones I took a picture of,
flutter and fall from the branch,
like happiness ripped apart by an unexpected hardship.
Nothing remains the same, I think to myself.