On 3 December, I published this poem, https://kmorrispoet.com/2022/12/03/i-passed-a-log/. Below is a slightly reworked version of my composition entitled A Fallen Tree:
A fallen tree
Spoke to me
On a
December day.
Once it stood
In ancient wood.
Now I
Pass by
As December grows colder
And I ever older.
Walking through fallen leaves
In the familiar churchyard
The poet sees
The hard
Fact that all
Leaves fall.
Leaves turn brown
‘Ere they fall
To waiting ground.
I heard
A bird’s
Alarm call.
Autumn will become
Winter. The sun
Will burn out.
Some still shout
Of human progress
While leaves fall.
5 degrees.
Wet trees
Drip yesterday’s rain.
The autumn came
Bringing acorns
And precious rain
To woodland lawns.
On hearing birdsong
I am glad
That I am here
To hear
Their sad, glad song.
We die
And our love
Dies with us.
No, it lives on
When we are gone
In those we love.
And the birds
Sing on
With no care
For where
We have gone.
Soon the autumn moon
Will come
And autumn’s milder face
Will replace
The boiling summer sun.
Yet the poet sees
Autumn’s Fallen leaves
Broiled by summer’s sun
Long ‘Ere autumn
Is due to come.
On my walks
I often find
That inner talk
Distracts my mind.
Then, the breeze
Rustles Autumn leaves
Reminding me
Of eternity.
Dry leaves hang
On waiting trees.
The dead litter
The cracked ground.
Our bitter
Harvest of drought.
I heard a leaf fall.
It fell, dry and dead,
And rested there
On greying head.
And brought a thought
Of the passing kind
Into my so mortal mind …
We may try to deny
That Mother Nature is there.
But the bur
On our clothes.
The prick of the rose.
And twigs in our hair.
Show what we know,
That nature is there.
K Morris - Poet 