The leaves at Leesylvania mark the trails
Like decoupage that changes as we walk
Through forests where the art of life prevails
As leaves decay in unison, en bloc
Some leaves don’t ever want to leave their tree
They only see the winter, not the spring
I wish they knew what life their fall would be
And then, perhaps, they’d know their song, and sing
Potomac tides persist as forests grow
And though their leaves may wash into the sea
One day their water will return and flow
Through roots and trunks like now, eternally
While leaves at Leesylvania lay like art
They mark the paths eternity will start.