Get Your Premium Membership

Hugs

Undecided, Aspen leaves turn from gold to silver to gold again. Carnivals of colors, prodded by the wind, bow to end of autumn, While brittle noise, as they fall, brings a symphony no songster could pen, But these trees' starch and strength hug their roots to rise from soil at the bottom. The grove is small with Aspens clinging tightly like sisters in hard times. Their focus is a dying tree, once grand, but now black-burnt to cinder. The Quakies, remembering the day when someone committed these crimes; Who chopped, defaced, set afire; this one in their midst now left to tremor.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 5/12/2025 10:53:00 AM
Awe, nature feeling imagery and emotion delivered thru facts. Are you somewhere in New Enland or Pennsylvania? Trees, all nature really, are spiritual to me and I tear up at earth's destruction from ignorance, even litter makes me cry. Should you wish to visit me, please search for Extinction By Litter. I must depart, time to cook. I enjoyed 'our time together' and hope I remember to come back, poke me if I don't soon show ... CayCay
Login to Reply
Greenhough Avatar
Hilda Greenhough
Date: 5/14/2025 1:22:00 PM
I live in Utah. The world's largest Aspen forest is in Utah. The Aspen tree here is one tree that has sprouted shoots that cover acres. One and many at the same time.
Date: 11/1/2024 9:12:00 PM
Sad that trees are destroyed by thoughtless men. "The grove is small with Aspens clinging tightly like sisters in hard times." Love this line with the comparison of Aspens huddled together to sisters clinging.
Login to Reply
Greenhough Avatar
Hilda Greenhough
Date: 11/2/2024 2:49:00 AM
Thank you. I appreciate your comment. Trees are living things.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry