Leaves that rustle in the wind
I saw his face look out at me
And I looked back at him
A visit to a veteran's cemetery seemed a good time to publish a poem I wrote a few Memorial Days ago. The poem talks about leaves rustling in the wind. It could also mean that beauty leaves us as life turns to death, or the beauty and peace you'll fnd at the cemetery, and finally, remembering someone's face in your mind as you imagine him looking back at you.
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