Children
By George Coombs •
Children
New creation
Here, in the leaf carpeted
Park in autumn.
Trees rustle in rivers of wind
Squirrels, birds
Children running innocent
As light
Sprinkling the air
With joy and laughter
Running, playing, climbing
Bodies gilded in
Autumn brightness.
I watch now,
Distant from them
While furtive steps move
Along their long life path.
George Coombs