When spring fades with the trees
Amid the fading green
The earth's old throat dries up
And leaves not one sheer breeze
With it she takes with her
All life's vitality
No rubies on the claws
Of morbid apple trees
And wispy grass can't stand
Beneath a barren tree
And with no robin calls
The trees must have their peace
For life cannot go on
When she forgets to breath
All that remains:
the leaves
That still have yet to fall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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