Trees in February

Yellow and old and falling free
dancing a last dance in the breeze

Late at night when all is silent
still fallin’, like intermittent rain

Come morning, find a carpet outside
of yellow, ochre leaves and tiny violet flowers

Glowing, golden clumps and not a single leaf
Standing far – has it swallowed the sun?

Shades of lavender on its distant tips
As if touched and transformed from above

Yesterday bare, today, all over a sprinklin’
a miracle of sunset orange and tender green

Silent and strong; this moment though, newly born
in a vulnerable shade of the tenderest green.


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