FAREWELL SUMMER
Windstorms rip the sky
Tearing at clouds
Which, torn
Release the deluge
Once living leaves drift silently
When naked branches quiver
A rotting carpet soon to join
Above them bare trees shiver
Fields of flowers
With nectar sweet
Are now asleep
Their peace they keep
The bee retreats
Within the hive
The shivering mass
Will keep alive
Before the blast
The birds are few
In the bush
They hide from view
But on the tree tops
Can be seen
The golden buds
A future green
nathanguitars 