Two Leaves

Two girls lived upon Sycamore. Close as any friends were before. Despite rainy, spring day They'd laugh and they'd play In matching green dresses they wore. Said one to the other in May, "My dear, you look pretty today In your beautiful dress. What a grace you possess. Forever will we be this way!" But as time went by and they grew The winds of change came blowing through. Though neither knew why And they still lived nearby The times that they shared became few. As dog days of summer lolled by The ground like their friendship went dry They both suffered alone Thinking, "Now that I've grown She has long since cast me aside." At last on one September night Beneath a pale harvest moon light When neither expected They both reconnected. She said, "My dear, aren't you a sight!" "Your dress, oh the color transcends Though wrinkled and curled at the ends, And see, mine is the same." And once more they became The closest and dearest of friends. But each colder day that went past Twas shorter the rays the sun cast. Soon their generation Succumbed from their station, But they and their friendship held fast. Together on winter's first freeze They exhaled the autumn's last breeze. With their stems intertwined If you search you can find Lightly buried in snow: Two Leaves. 9/15/2016