Remembering the Fallen

crushed and broken, 
   somehow beautiful,
its function passed.

providing nutrients
today, and on into
   tomorrow and

this maple leaf
   will one day
   be forgotten
and so will i.

my fathers do not
   stand tall 

   though, in their
day, they struggled
sometimes bravely
      such is life
   and living.

   something was
beautiful, although
   no memories

      a time shall
surely come, when
i am nothing more:
   a fuzzy memory, 
and someone may
be remembering
      the fallen.