Dreams of Spring

Now every leaf is falling fast,

The woods ablaze with gold and flame,

More beauteous at the death than in

Those splendid days when

Blossom turned to greet spring’s sun

Without a thought of summer,

Much less of fall.

But every breeze steals gold and fire,

And only bones endure beneath…

So brief is autumn: winter snows

Begin to fall before the final leaves;

And those enduring bones beneath ―

So strong yet bleak, so bare and stark ―

merely drowse, and wait, and dream

Of days when blossoms crowned their brows

And strewed their feet.

They dream, I think, of youth,

Jen Downes
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