PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Trees begin to shed
their dresses
Once again, they
change colors.

Turning from green
to
brown, then gold.

Falling from their
homes,
to be blown away.

They stand alone,
bare in distress
for all to see.

The wind whistles
through  pines,
leaving a chill in
the air.

Dreams of a life
time,
fade with the
changing season.

Close the door
gently,
The day is bitter
cold,
winter has arrived.

(c) copyright heather burns

this poem has been revised  see changing seasons #2