The Trees Speak, Once Again

Once again, the trees speak in a soft and gentle whisper while subtly dancing in the wind. Then as witness to my indifference it gusts a little louder, brushing branches releasing leaves upon my head. The cluster of the trunk reveals black caped figures piercing through screaming vocally to announce their presence; A clutch of crows, large and boisterous perch unsteady riders in the canopy bobbing and cawing back and forth. The trees remain immovable and regal swaying gently waltzing in place then brushing gently from south to north. On the branches hangs the color of the season giving way to changing hues of deep reds and purples yellow oranges blowing freely floating on the downward fall. To the ground comes hardness, empty non bearing gardens as the naked barrenness begins to speak a bleaker images soon to come to the silence of the trees.