Dead leaves dancing,
to ghostly silent songs,
circling their maker,
in sporadic silent swirls.
Like muted tribal dancers,
around a fire.
Motionless the audience,
move within their minds.
Different thoughts all
dancing to the same tune.
A heavy sigh from deep
within the sky,
a rainfull of crusty crisp
leaves shower the carpet
below.
Severed from their source,
the leaves join the
circling show.
Motionless the audience,
move within their minds.
Not Long Left
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-leaves-dancing/
