Alone,
The field absorbs a tree centered
In the middle of its earth where
roots spread like children’s arms
desperate for a parent
as the waxing of leaves
welcome an early sun
during glacial changes of seasons
until finally
the waxing of last fruits
and leaves
yield to a first frost
of life suffering the cold
of under unfriendly winds
chilling the skin
pressing a need for hats and coats
as the next unavoidable
season pulls us into its
rotation.
Roger Singer 