Image courtesy of the author.

Elegy of Fall

Do you hear
The crinkle of leaves?
It’s quiet at heart
A murmur on the breeze.
Yet the leaves sigh
Giving a bow before bowing out.

The show has wrapped
A full house slowly emptying out.
The audience drifts away
Catching wind as they depart.
Slowly yet surely
The theater is emptied.

The doors are shuttering
Winter isn’t good for business.
They’ll open again when it warms
The sun is their most loyal patron.
But for now the stagehands bow
And see themselves out.

Poem prompted by someone I care for dearly, who asked me to make a poem involving the pictured tree.