Thursday 16 February 2012

Bed of Leaves

The cool, composed wind
whispers wistfully to
the trembling, blushing treetops;
strong but not over-
forceful in its grip.
The stubbornly rooted tree
cannot help but be swayed
by the wind's compelling influence,
she removes her modest auburn leaves and
they drop to the floor.
The Fall finally lands
on the forest bed, scattered
with the tree's removed attire
exposing the smooth, soft frame
behind her bark.
His breath reaches out
to her every bare branch,
to even the smallest of twigs and crevices,
until the wind's ecstatic sigh is matched
by the tree's groan.
When the Fall is over
 both the tree and wind embrace,
exposed but euphoric, hoping that their
unison and their shared heat will
see out the Winter.

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