• Fall Warriors


    I caught them in their warrior dress
    Once while strolling in the park
    One bitter cold evening
    Hours before the dark

    The wind was sharp and cold
    Sun slinking under horizion, lined by gold
    The mist slithered across the wet ground
    Searching for something lost once found

    Around the campfire
    The Indian Chief
    Tells the stories of once long ago
    For the Warriors to brief

    The next morning I arrived
    To watch the depart
    Of each of the Warriors
    Crawling down the bark

    Their enemy stood
    Hovering slightly in the air
    It's icy evil smirk
    Moving slowly, it perked

    Slowly like time
    Creeping along
    The Warriors braced themselves
    Taking great care

    The porcess was slow
    The battle not yet won
    In the next month or two
    Trees lost a ton

    Slowly the warriors
    All died in their turn
    Even the Indian Chief
    Had something to learn

    As the last of them left
    The weather became frozen
    A picture in time
    Stopped in it's tracks

    Then the spirits of the Warriors
    Floated down in minute white specks
    The countless flakes of dreams
    Destroyed on direct

    Some ask though
    Was the battle won or not?
    The battle I stated
    Was one not to be fought

    As each year
    Comes and gos
    This battle is re-lived again
    With the same foes

    The battle of Fall
    The leaves, trees, and mist
    The Warriors won't be gone long
    Soon there will be anouther list