November Trees

a warm November day as the sunlight drifts away the darkness comes in early and it comes in with no mercy something like, the beams of light that filter through the trees at night that lines the earth first with stripes that seam to move and dance on sight. the odd warm breeze shuffles the leaves a sound of comfort at least to the trees listening to there legacies whispering up there memories. each year for years for centuries the trees grow tall. from all of these. the lights fight through with ease the trees are bare through fallen leaves the lights grows and grows from down the street an engine roars a horn it beeps  the beams of light deceive and streaks they follow the source and what it seeks beams race and leap speed and creep they contract as they subside,            as the car goes passing by and darkness sweeps in like original sin all becomes silent, simple, whole again. as the rustle of the leaves a tell all from the wind. disruption to the silence the darkness's a lonely friend but in the sky, small lights supply hope onto depend the Stars tell the trees to believe to  keep reaching till the end.