Paul Storm - Final Hour

how many falling
leaves of faded summer
glories crackling under

your bare feet
cradling the next
will it take my friend?

i have defeated you
with the breath of a child
striking this final hour

and you know too well
there are no more
places to walk

except for us to
leave these leaves
for summer is gone

Paul Storm

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/final-hour/