Aspen Rain
Sunlight captured on trembling trees
the rarest of gold in her shimmering leaves
a chill wind comes along and the branches shiver
summer whispers goodbye while the aspens quiver
with regal grace the proud limbs unbutton their gowns.
The leaves enjoy one last dance as they flutter down
lone branches creak softly as they swear an oath;
new life shall return with their spring growth, and
death flaunts her beauty where no gold remains:
trees dance naked in the aspen rain.
By Jeanne MacGregor Lahn
This poem was written by Jeanne Lahn on Oct 10, 1995.
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