Poetry: Autumn in Minnesota
Time has no place in a land of lakes
The artificial markings do no justice
To vast fields stretching out
And immeasurable life growing from beneath my feet.
My footsteps are but echoes
Of ancient paths tread long before
Inches become feet becomes acres
To where the water meets the sky in an impregnable blue.
Red leaves bathe trees in fire
That the telling wind dares to extinguish
A leaf floats wearily to the ground
Marking an inevitable end to a story written long ago.
A flake of virgin white
Dances on the water before it disappears
Vanishing into a sea of anonymity
It rests before the next adventure to the sky.
Weakly I walk along
Shuffling my feet upon the harden earth
The breeze blows out the sun’s last rays
Washing me in cold and dark.
Winter cannot frighten me
In a sacred land of infinity
Where time has no place
And the earth promises immortality.
Lisa Friedman © 2007 , butyoudontlooksick.com
