S.A. Gerber

Dying Decent

 

Throwing away time

as if it were sour soup.

Meager checks come,

enough to drown

midnight demons.

No dime for a dance,

no woman looks my way.

They already have low

standards, can’t settle

for less.

Outside, a melancholy

breeze whirlwinds some

dead leaves and papers  

at my feet.

On them is some age

old, disparaging news.

The rich get richer,

the poor, poorer, and

the nights darker.

Down what’s left in

one swallow, and wonder

how I can buy back

my soul.

I want to die decent.

Leaves

Aging leaves

wither and die,

on sapless,

lifeless branches.

They fall crisp

and crackling,

upon the ground

below, awaiting

parades of

trodding feet.

Once turning

to dazzling colors

in autumn’s cool

air, they now

reflect through the

window of winter…

a time of loss.

Like all things fragile…

their beauty is transitory.

 

 

(First Published in “Inventory”- (Poems 1999-2012) by S.A. Gerber c 2013)

In the Park 

 

Deep ponds

Water lilies

Hop-frogs.

 

Blue sky

Green grass

Sleeping dogs.

 

Children running

Kites flying

Leaves falling.

 

Fish biting

Folk’s napping

Quite inviting.

 

Sun descending

Soon dark

Stars out.

 

Pack up

Soon alone

In the park.