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Guest Rustic Monk

By The Summer's Leave

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Guest Rustic Monk

By the Summer?s Leave

Gabriel Duncan

Disappointment leaves a bitter after-taste

Like the slow, chilling wind, of autumn?s eve

Another summer past, another year gone by

Dried and cracked, fallen off the trees

Searching through the sticks and leaves

I find only the remains

Of seasonal amity

I trudge forward in the rain

Glancing past the fallen oak

There stands a maple tree

Whose earth has risen

Like a first place podium

Moting the forest below

I climb, clawing at the rocks and leaves

And lay gasping in its roots

Knotted in its belly

Juts a hollowed arm

I watch a cardinal sip from its pool

And take away no harm

As I stretch to take a drop

I hear you creak below

The promises of next spring

Disregarding winter?s blow

The maple?s gift is meager

I will always grow

The maple will someday dry, and die

And I will do neither

But, by the summer?s leave

What does shade mean to me

See, he tastes like you

Only sweeter

.

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