Leave Of Absence Poem by Ima Ryma

I feel that winter's coming soon.
When there's a breeze, I hear me sound
In a whispering, soulful tune.
Some parts of me slip to the ground.
The trees, my neighbors, loom above,
More sun seen through their leafless limbs.
That golden ball reminds me of
The coming winter season dims
My opportunity or need
For friend, Ol' Sol, to nourish me,
Cuz I will be a dormant 'weed, '
Waiting for that next spring to be.

Yes, Mother Nature is on track,
And perennial, I'll be back.