Bare Trees And Dead Leaves Poem by Jay Bradley

Bare trees
They line the road and sway in the breeze
Dead leaves
They lie on the road and as the traffic flows
So they glow, orange and auburn
And yellow in the breeze

Sallow faces
Shade covers them in canvas topped trucks
The king
He comes by on his high horse to observe
He wants to check that everything’s fine
But only sees dead leaves and bare trees

Red crosses
They line the road and sway in the breeze
Bloody leaves
They grow on the road and radiate their sheen
And as the traffic flows, the autumn blows
So the troops march on and on in the breeze

Shallow holes
Trenches through which the soldiers march
Woodrow’s winter
T’is what the winter walkers know and don’t care
A show from December to close the March
To close the bloody leaves and bare trees we seize

Our mission
Every day that’s past seems like the last
Our depart
It comes before we’re ready or not
And all that’s left is what we’ve seen and dreamed
Just dead leaves, crinkling crimson, and bare trees in the breeze