The Tree
Shooting straight up from the ground,
Thick and strong, an aging trunk,
With crumbling bark and shavings of wood.
Magnificent colors surround the top,
Leaves, occasionally blowing off with the wind.
It's changing colors of fall,
Give way to its dark skeleton of winter,
The crunchy, dried leaves surrounding the base.
And when it seems there is no hope for the return of that wonderful color,
Spring takes over the world,
Driving away the winter,
And bringing fresh, green leaves to the spindly branches.
These leaves will stay constant through spring and summer,
Until fall starts again.
The endless cycle begins once more.
