Autumn Days
Another walk in these old woods
The air is crisp
stiff wind is good
Leaves of red and yellow gold
Another Autumn day unfolds
I think of all the stories told
By these woods in days of old
Of how man
and his cold ways
Are so much worse than Autumn days
How so many forests vanish
I am sure if we were banished
These old woods
would surely flourish
Its many species
souls to nourish
How man simply
turns away
When for progress
and for play
We simply cut down
all the trees
Out of false
necessity
I listen now
as I walk through
And hear the tears
of timbers who
Know that they
too shall disappear
If all of us
don't also hear
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