Tree at My Window
(after Frost, of course)
Tree at my window, window tree,
you always share your leaves with me.
I watch your leaves bud every spring,
limbs of leaves soon burgeoning.
And when the school bells ring and call,
I know your frosted leaves will fall,
your year in time with outer weather
attuned to my fall inner weather.
__________________
Ralph
Last edited by RCL; 09-28-2016 at 04:47 PM.
Reason: time for tune in penultimate; frosted for crisped
|