I watch the maples sway across the street
The wind seems gentle, tinged with gentle rain
The gentleness of morning is complete
As gentle dreams of reverie remain
The reverie of gentle autumn days
Remembered in the winter times of chill
I wonder if a maple tree that sways
Remembers when it used to stand stone still
The memories of trees are like the wind
A paradox with roots that wait for spring
A memory no weather can rescind
The maple tree has other songs to sing
I watch the maples watch as I compose
A gentle song as gently I repose.
This entry was posted on Friday, March 8th, 2024 at 2:10 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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