Gone Too Soon
Seeds fallen from the tree,
scattered along cold cement.
No purchase found for free;
A short life already spent.
A "wake-up" left lying there for all,
gone, so long, so soon, so very small.
Leaves skitter down the road,
swirling in currents unseen.
Death’s dance paying what’s owed,
crackling brown replacing green.
Motion pulls attention to attest,
fleeting moments before final rest.
Snow muffles sound and soul.
Some return, while some are lost.
Crisp air echoes the last knoll;
Ours despite the final cost.
We fight on though the battle is done,
not knowing whether we’ve lost or won.
In death’s last gasp we will clearly see,
all of our life’s possibilities.
-- William Martin