Beauty of Death

Cold winds of October chill to the bone. Creatures
of the grass scurry for shelter beneath the falling leaves,
safe from cold fingers, huddled within fall’s home.

The red and gold and brown sparkles in the sun, kissed
by moist lips of dew, caressed by each other, laying side
by side, over and under…beauty of death begun.

As the sun bows below the horizon, the red and orange
of a magnificent sky bids goodnight to the last to
cling to the trees, enduring only until sun rising.

Plastic bags and straw baskets and white smoke trailing
into the overcast sky attend to the dead. Beautiful and
quiet and reincarnated they swirl above our head….
only for a moment do they fly….the beauty of death
a last good-bye.

by John Pouch