How Still the Trees
How still the trees outside my window,
Their autumn leaves are slick with rain.
Though summer's gone, sweet mem'ries linger
Of sun-streaked hair and lips of flame.
Faintly I hear hoar winter calling
As shorter now the days are falling,
But spring sleeps just around the corner
To waken in dew time again.
Copyright © Jim Slaughter | Year Posted 2022
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