Past, Passing Away

The past too heavy
so much stuff
to hold.

Failures like
autumn leaves
covering a once
green meadow.

Everywhere
memories of dreams
which might have been,
scattered leaves
in the winds.

Like trees
once lifting their
foliage to the sun;
now standing
bare, alone
on a cold winter’s
night.

Just a short walk
into the forest
to lie at peace
in the earth;
my soul perhaps
to sprout
again with the
coming of
a brighter
spring day.