When death fell
Like Autumn leaves
Windswept cruel
From swaying trees
I painted a picture
Made up of words
Treasured hidden
Away from cares.
As Winter came
The leaves now gone
The cold hard ground
Which had become
A landscape deep
Etched in mind
Those very same words
Reached for and found.
As Spring arrived
Its coloured hand
Swept in new life
Upon the land
Now I see
The death was mine
The picture painted
Words in rhyme.