cycle
Margaret V.Doran
poplars stretch towering golden spires heavenward
maples dance in layers of flaming red
to staccato beats of castanet-like rain
sequoias blanket the ground with brown and withered branches
they had hidden in their new and firry coats
the oaks, still stubborn, vainly cling to summer green
yet even now the yellows gain their due
all around are signs of nature's ebbing
like waves upon the very sands of time
preparations now for slumber coming
the sun is in the colder southern sky
the plants all take their cue for night is dawning
and tired heads must rest for life anew
the sap grows thick and viscous in the vein
the earth exchanges crystal frost for morning dew
man alone seems far from nature in the autumn
and neglects the primal call of winter slumber
as he rushes forward still in careless haste
and takes not even moments of his day to notice
the grandeur and inevitable cycle of birth and death
Copyright © 1999 Margaret V. Doran
All rights reserved.
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Updated November 19, 1999
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