I came across this recently. It was written awhile back, but it still applies. Enjoy.

Indian Summer

By C.L.Roman

I have reached my Indian summer.

My leaves shimmering gold and red

From the veins out.

New trees grown from

My first fruits, now plant saplings

Of their own.

There are twists in me,

Root and branch, but none in

The core of me.

There I am straight and true

As the planter grew me

According to His rule.

My leaves brush the wind,

Tinting each zephyr with

Newly minted words.

Etching meaning in the grain

Revealed long past winter

When I will lay at last in

The warm sweet ground.


One thought on “Sunday Extra (Thank NaBloPoMo)

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