In
the Fall
In the
Fall a tree looses its leaves, as we do with
friends.
But it
is we that are blown in the wind.
The coming
breeze of winter dawn cools the dry land.
Sunny days
begin to flutter as the dark night wins the long
fight.
As what was
once green becomes barren, for life has gone to sleep for another
day.
no
crickets chirp nor do morning birds sing as the ripples in the water
become
thick and frozen in time.
For what
we saw and breathed yesterday is gone.
And
we dream that the rivers will flow again, the birds will return with song,
and that tree will grow leaves anew.
Brady
Smith
9/8/97
