The Old Oak Poem by Aria Mendez

The wind blows lightly
sweeping the ground
causing the leaves to wander
the cold crisp air opening my lungs
the lingering scent of cocoa, pumpkin pie, and autumn leaves
penetrate my nose sweetly
As I lay there peacefully
dreaming
soaring high
like a bluebird
I open my wings and heart
I watch tears flow down the old oak
fall is here the oak says to me
another season gone
Sadly realizing that the old oak, woes the falling leaves
Every leaf a rushing tear
a sad detachment from home
lonely, cold and colourless
the oak is stripped from its liveliness
no crimson, no orange, no gold
Just kids
playing
prancing in the woods
crushing
jumping
crunching into his tears
His soul
Their laughter taunting at his pain
the oak glances
The golden flowers
blaze at the oak with fear
their eyes
penetrating the sky
praying for light
the bluebirds flying high
Stare at them, abandoning them
migrating to warmer weather
their feathers
falling
shedding
embarking to a new place
a new home
where the oak won't shed tears
where their pain isn't taunted
where everything is warm
where the laughter continues
no more crying dear oak tree
fall is only a season
crimson, orange, gold
will soon come to you
do not fret golden flowers
your light will shine upon you
the bluebirds, will return
the wind wont be cold to you
kids won't taunt
And I will say to you oak tree
Seasons come and go
now, it is
only fall