The Wood

He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.”

Jeremiah 17:8

The leaf does fall from dying trees,
as Autumn strikes with early flare;
where lingers summer dusty breeze
and blows the leaf in open air.

I stroll the empty forest lane
where birds once sang a lullaby;
the timber and branch now wane
while squirrels scamper so sly

they hurry down dirty path to hide.
I stop in wonder, to feel fall’s breeze!
Would summer shuffle in sullen stride,
as leaf dies falling from dying trees?

P. Wolf; author & poet

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