Green Leaves, Red Bricks

One fell hard amongst the springtime growth
Where ash and elm and hick’ry stood tall
His journey done, short though it be
His spring descended to his fall

On down the line gathered we
Within the walls he detested so
But who were we to begrudge the spot
The numbers, there, don’t fall, they grow

Embittered by the cruelty felt
We turned our backs and walked to new
One south, one west, one out to sea
We sought a path, bent to the hilt

Through book and drink and ocean trek
We sought the word of truth from high
Drive did distract, as well it will
The days did compile, changeless, shapeless

For what is reckoning, if not cruelly found
In depth, in breadth, in broader view
Than to see your image in a place
Once revered, always eschewed.

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