Leaving Time

Yep, sometimes you know when the sky is just that shade of grey, and the wind is just that shade of cold. There's the scent of curing tobacco, or crushed flowers, or the sea. And at the end, you know you have to go.

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Trees grow everywhere.
And in the land I was born,
Summer goes and leaves a cloak -
A cloak of leaves -
Green into red,
Life into fire.

And I think I know
Why these things falling are called
Leaves. They leave us, leave behind
Their ancient trees -
Life into ground,
Ground into life.

What life? Well, I think
These leaves, now left, are transformed,
Become the food of futures -
Of future things -
Maybe not trees,
Maybe flowers.

God's wind blows, strange wind;
We know not where it whistles.
Maybe you, a leaf, leaving
Will make flowers
Bloom somewhere in
Other gardens.