A Distant Wind

September sun
bronzes limbs in preparation
for the bareness sure to come,
that time between green
and ermine

when, statuesque,
they stand tall in unforgiving
wind, sentinels that buffer
the storm despite
their shivering.

Do trees
know of Stevens?
Do they have a mind of winter;*
Is that what sustains them?
Questions

swirl in unison
with the leaves. Oak and pine,
maple and elm, they watch
their children go. The empty nest
syndrome

is a universal thing.
Each generation prepares
its children for the leaving
with a sure faith in the return
of spring.

There is no need
to mourn
the falling leaves, no need
to dread the winter cold
nor fear the distant wind.

*from  The Snow Man  by Wallace Stevens

2 thoughts on “A Distant Wind

  1. BoardFlak

    Nothing living is immune to the changing of the seasons. In some ways humans are the reverse of trees – we add “foliage” as autumn progresses, and shed it again in the spring.

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