Sonnet on a Tree in Fall on a Busy Street

A tall and slender tree beside the street

Reaches up to the sky with branches bright

And brightening where they the sun do meet,

Encouraged by warmth and light to greater height.

And up they reach, though the chill of fall arrives,

And winter, at times, does whisper down from on high,

From a perfect blue that fills the sky

Beneath a bright though distant looking light,

And nature’s patient plan of procession

And recession in accordance with time,

Determined down by the far direction

Of a moving series of turning signs.

Yet here a spring past its season seems to strive,

And does, to a purer light, in time, arrive.


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