The Breeze Undresses Trees...

 ...in five days the breeze has almost completely teased the leaf-song from this tree...

The breeze undresses trees

Methinks I hear her laugh

Her whisper sews white-woven clothes

Where grows the silver chaff

The breeze teases the leaves;

Green’s metamorphosis

Of scarlet-gold is hard to hold

Too long upon her kiss

The breeze runs, wild with ease

Baton across the limb

Where strum those mournful melodies

Of summer's dying hymn

The breeze scavenges seas

Of oak, maple and elm

And none can thwart her piracies

Of Hunger at the helm

The breeze, like infantries

Invisible can pull

A battalion of memories

Within her phantom hull

The breeze undresses trees

Shushing plush-red refrains

...soon all that will be left to tease

Are skin and bone remains

© Janet Martin