
What perfect season—
baubles on the trees above;
golden wattle beams.

What perfect season—
baubles on the trees above;
golden wattle beams.

Strong willed, far reaching,
a cacophony of limbs;
tree that’s left alone.

Forests or alleys,
though buried under rubble,
life will find a way.

Lingering autumn;
an aisle of yellowing trees,
resistant to change.