Autumn brings us changes

Leaves turn vibrant colors
Golden, yellowish, and red
How do we find such beauty
In this cycle of death?
It is all around us daily
In what we see and hear
Every beginning has an end
To enjoy a juicy steak
An unknowing bovine perishes
We are born with one certainty
Bury your head in the sand
Hind under your warm blanket
For no matter how hard we try
Eventually, we will all die.

  1. Nancy Duci Denofio says

    So direct – yet we can’t run from death. Sincerely, Nancy

  2. joycewhite says

    The older I get the more I worry about death. Good poem.

  3. RHPolitz says

    A fact we cannot avoid; I don’t worry about death but I do worry about the way I might die. For some, it’s a long painful process yet for others, it happens in an instant. I worry about leaving things undone, about being a burdon on others and of suffering, unable to end the pain. But I do not worry about death ietself.

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