Seasons
As the temperature drops,
her leaves turn.
It is time for change.
A quiet descent brushes
along her face in a delicate
whisper. It is time to slow down.
The snow blankets
her limbs as she begins
to yield under the pressure.
It is time to stop, just for a moment.
When the cold and darkness
seems eternal, the sun
emerges and warms her.
It is time to grow.
Monday, December 1, 2008
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