On the Horizon

On the Horizon My limbs and leaves are trembling My green days of shade and blue shadow near gone, For on the near horizon lies The first cold flail of fall. To compensate, my Maker made My edges to wondrously curl and color Dipping and spiraling as butterflies, ‘Ere I am browned and blown To the ground. I remember when I raised my head After dark winter’s bitter gales, Stretching my arms and blossoming, And being caressed in warm sun, adored. From that gracious beginning adulation, Rich maturity and pride were mine, My limbs grew long and reached strong, Higher and higher to the sky. From days fast passing, I must then bid farewell Grandly with gold, blazing red and orange To let winter have its hibernate way As I Leave this short life behind And pray for one more.