CIRCLING AROUND

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.

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