Rain and All
Wind, as her final rainstorm gathers,
gathers up the orphaned leaves
Leaves some tucked in between the rocks,
rocks some to sleep beneath the trees
Trees, moved so by her (rain and all)
all bow and though not known to cry,
cry now, while silvered leaves of fall
fall as they watch their Zephyr die
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2016
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