I see yonder ye swaying bold,
A blinding magnificent sight of gold,
Specs of red with raging spirit,
Awaiting the unyielding wrath of cold.
As each one flutters to the ground,
You grieve the loss without a sound.
The spirit you once hath, now stripped bare,
As the silver gloom descends around.
With burdened boughs and a glistening crown,
Don’t let the dark times bring you down.
In the hope that all will be green again,
Battle on with a determined frown.
As the seasons turn and the clouds part
The rays bring life to the weathered heart
As blossoms spread their fragrances new
The mirth follows where the bees dart
They who live life with high and low
Through deep despair with a joyous glow
A life well lived at the end of the road
On cloud nine and six feet below
- Neha Kamat