The Trees Have Shed The Leaves Of Past. Poem by Michael Gale

The trees have shed the trees of past...
Nothing new, nothing last.

The branches spread a web of fate...
Nothing new, nothing late.

The bark had heard no call of the wild...
Nothing new, as in as styled.

The grass was green as green can be...
Peace filled winds, unto thee.

Alas alas, the Spring felt scape..
Upon my back, to all escape.

The winds left behind a hindered past....
Alas, alas, no sudden, last.