The Trees Speak, Once Again
Once again, the trees speak
in a soft and gentle whisper
while subtly dancing in the wind.
Then as witness to my indifference
it gusts a little louder, brushing branches
releasing leaves upon my head.
The cluster of the trunk reveals
black caped figures piercing through
screaming vocally to announce their presence;
A clutch of crows, large and boisterous
perch unsteady riders in the canopy
bobbing and cawing back and forth.
The trees remain immovable and regal
swaying gently waltzing in place
then brushing gently from south to north.
On the branches hangs the color of the season
giving way to changing hues of deep reds and purples
yellow oranges blowing freely floating on the downward fall.
To the ground comes hardness, empty non bearing gardens
as the naked barrenness begins to speak
a bleaker images soon to come to the silence of the trees.
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