Leaves of gold and red make the announcement. We’ve been sleeping, trusting life’s green driver. Now we see: soil’s rich and grave appeal Draws us down and grants eternal access To the vast decay. Death’s governor Teaches us how saprophytes conceive. In the cemetery some conceive Judgement trumpets blaring the announcement. Miracle is not the governor Of the resurrection. Nature’s driver Goes here daily. Death always has access To continued life. That’s rot’s appeal. There is no conviction to appeal, No argument of defense to conceive, Nor for the conjugal some special access. Let the forest jury make announcement Of […]