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