The dogwood trees have tossed aside their
spring time pink and white booms, now
at summer's ending, limbs spread open like
fancy parasols, in green and blushed red leaves.
Soon autumn will come and we will forget
dogwoods wear anything but autumn gold.
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem