Tristan Robert Lange
By the Wayside
Low clouds cover road.
An autumn scene is revealed.
Bear cub lies dying.
Driver’s eyes widen.
The fall’s chill ills them inside.
Cub cries in ag’ny.
Greyness enters soul.
Harvest gloom looms overhead.
Li’l legs are flailing.
Time passes as cars.
Folks enjoy fall foliage.
People stop—gawk—drive by bear.
\'Tis the right season.
All life has its own autumn.
Apathy is death’s design.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, October 18, 2025.
Tittu