An Autumn Thought
On the cusp of summer the trees stand expectant, unsure,
not quite willing to let the fading sunlight be bygones
Still, some embrace the inevitable, shedding their leaves
at the first rumors of fall.
Others wait, reluctant to surrender, clutching their leaves
throughout the long winter darkness, much
like a doe clings to her stillborn fawn,
until spring forces them, brown and dead, from their branches,
But most trees fight the good fight, all the while knowing
that death comes with the frost and, resigned to fate,
they emerge, victorious in defeat,
blazing a colorful swath in the memories of we
who occupy mere days in their centuries of their existence.
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