
echelon of trees
looking back at me
ashamed of their
winter nakedness
RWOz2
The trees have turned their coats
From green to crimson gold.
And soon like careless teens
Will drop them on the floor
And there they will lie
While I them spy
Safe and dry indoors
At this turn of seasons
Deciduous lesions
Steep the seeping rain
Into a spot
Of driveway tea
This cold brew
A fusion of leaf
And rain and dew
A concoction
Sans relief
Leaves a stain
Beyond belief
But for now
I let it be
For I must wait
Till turn of spring
To expunge the dregs
Of driveway tea.
RWOz2