The Fall has come.

Harsh and bitter cold

makes the tree shiver.

A weeping willow once dressed

In vibrant green

Now stands trapped

In muted yellow and brown.

The longer Fall lingers

The more its leaves fall away.

The tree was not ready 

For snowfall so soon.

A white blanket

Presses down on its branches.

Another branch leaves,

Another branch leaves,

Another branch leaves.

With nothing left

The willow weeps

Gray Sap leaks

Aphids feed.

By winter

Even the last cardinal

Lifts her scarlet wings

And leaves her hollow nest.

Flying free

Having found

A better tree,

One unrotted

One that still holds life.

With nothing left

The willow weeps

Red Sap seeps

Aphids eat.

It has now learned about the

Secret of the Seasons,

Of how a vessel

Born with weevils

Can never

Spread its 

Seeds.