Lone-standing trees in the bone-chilling rain
Cloaked with their leaves brownish and few
Face the gray morns without protest or gain.
Now gone is the green; now faded, the new.
In memories are found summer’s blue skies,
Those years of strong limbs and redolent air
Recalled through the nods of unnoticed sighs
As eyes cling to times more lissome and fair.
Life’s vigor has come and finished its dance,
Too, withered the crown of golden fall days
When colors spewed forth at every chance,
Flinging their hues to the soft, mellow haze.
Lone-standing trees in the bone-chilling snow,
The sun has just parted their darkness above,
Now calling true hearts, and, soon they will go
To the glorious boughs of His changeless love.
John Sparks