Hasty

A Twenty Minutes poem.

Hasty

The sycamore has lost
almost all its leaves
the few that remain
are brown and dried
shriveled when they fall to the ground
and listless on the limb.
I wonder
what advantage there is
if any
to being the first to be ready
to greet winter
and what the hurry is
to shake off spring and summer?

Autumn Tree small

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6 thoughts on “Hasty

  1. Wonderful. I especially love “listless on the limb”–and the quilt! I have sometimes tried to combine words and textiles, with indifferent results. This is inspiring.

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