A tall tree stood in the heart of a peaceful farm

The trees tender branches swayed in the soft summer

breeze, and it’s emerald leaves clung on tightly to their stems

as if they knew it wasn’t yet time for them to die.

I ran my fingers delicately down the trees bark. 

I felt each rough scar and each tiny puncture made by the beak of a woodpecker.

The summer breeze whistled through the branches of this tall

and powerful tree and I know that soon this summer breeze

would become a fall breeze.  It would soon ebb time for the

leaves to die.

Sandy Gomes