Cold clouds come roaming. Follow the winds.
Trees shake and leaves give in -- bare soon, and thin
branches will wear the call of their fall.
Come autumn in a spin. Filled streams you'll see
carry and spill whatever may come, and whatever will
will seep in the soil and nourish the trees
who hybernate to hide from the chill. Be still.
Breathe. Be well.
Each tree is a legacy built by chance.
Do what you can. Remember to recognize that.