Wednesday, October 24, 2007

My pic - not my poem

It is official. We have had snow. Jackie said so. Last night
we had a 1/2" more. I found these two leaves playing
in the breeze only 2 weeks ago. They paused long
enough to pose for a picture, then tumbled about
their journey. They looked as if playing tag. It was
hard to tell who was "it".


The Last Leaf
Oliver Wendell Holmes

I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
With his cane.

They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.

But now he walks the streets,
And looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
"They are gone."

The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.

My grandmamma has said
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;

But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.

I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!

And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.


3 opinionated prattle:

Stan said...

Good morning John, great poem and sorry about the snow - butI know you look forward to playing in it so I guess it is all right - please keep your snow off my highway I still have to get home!

Shana said...

Heath says " To Late!"

hehe the weather is not under our control...better call the charmin.

Shana said...

oh ya good poem john...hehe

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