I Can Hang On Like The Leaves

an artist afraid of failing painted the dawn.
it was a faint rose.
it seemed to be growing closer.

he was cheered up by this.
he began painting mist, just a little, around the edges
like frost on the window as it encroaches.

now it was December. he painted bells.
it was a faint music.
he knew that well

but they were silver ones. with scarlet bows.
and children loved them.
scared of  him dying they painted small green leaves

because of a story from O. Henry
whose story was really: Death and the Maiden reprised
where the one dying, or who thinks she is

thinks I can hang on

because the leaves do.

mary angela douglas 28 august 2019