A statesman oak, in fall he spoke
to brethren of the wood.
Windblown vowels and fluttering jowls
deciduous he stood.
Calm and serene he argued green
for change, said change is good.
The Sugar Pine stepped out of line
and said he never would.
The Sumac said, "I'll show you red!"
and red indeed he showed,
The Maple leered and, snobbish, sneered
"And I will show you gold!"
Mulberry trees, devoid of leaves,
held transient feathered fruit.
But winter breeze chased birds and leaves;
it stripped them crown to root.
"Oak," said Pine, "you should resign,
you've left your fellows bare!
I can assure no conifer
would oh, so badly err."
"Pine," said Oak, "I won't be broke
My way is more than fair.
Needles catch snow, and green will grow
when spring is in the air."