Restlessly, the leaves fall
From stollid, patient trees
On council of their guilds.
The groups they form,
One by one,
Blanket the frosted Fields.
The solemnness of time,
Graceful antiquation,
Has ordained this spectral grove.
Who's histories
Have these trees been
The quiet observers of?
Forever and today,
I watch in solitude
The colors changing brown from green
And I will leave
Remembering
a beautifully silent scene.
