| Visiting the Cemetary in Autumn |
| I dropped by the cemetary in weather unfair It was an autumn day; windy, cold. The trees nearby were almost bare. One could sense a new season about to unfold. Countless fallen leaves were all around. Dead leaves that had seen their season. Their various colours here abound. In this burial place beyond reason. I always come here alone, So as to remain silent to nature sounds. All one can hear is the winds low moan, And the creak of old oaks around. Some come here in remembrance of kin's. Guess I dropped by to reflect, Or perhaps it's an air to think in. Certainly not have I come to pay last respects. |
| Larry W. Fillier |