Beneath An Ancient Tree
I find you beneath an ancient tree,
in winter your names I cannot see;
I think fall is the nicest time of year,
for the watercolor hues in my mind sear.
I come with flowers on a pretty day,
following a winding pathway;
then, for days I dream at night,
with tears until morns first light-
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2025
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