Seasons - James Markels

Gnarled knobs of russet fluttering
With the wind of a harvest hunting
For loose leaves to their rest.

Howling foul weather spitting
Sleet and snow, blanketing branches
With frozen frescos.

Budding blooms of tender life,
Dew smothering the cracked bark;
A stormy resurrection.

Sun slicing through humid mist,
Ivy twining sinewy limbs
For the futility of this time.


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