Fall

There’s a tree alone at the side of the road.
It sighs as the wind breezes by.
Beneath it lies green grass and dirt,
always the same and
always the same.

Clouds drift through the space between leaves
and they stay there for brief moments
in the still silhouettes
before the wind pulls the fullness from the space.

Trees stand still and strong for months
but those months come and go until
a chill to kill the stillness sends shivers down
their bark and branches
and set their leaves in motion to the ground.Spring had sprung green upon the lonely brown sprigs,
but Fall followed, with its descent.
The returning cycle of earth to earth,
where the ground lies
still, silent, waiting for its friends at their end