Hope


Trees shivering in the distance.
Long brown dead bony skeletons holding onto the tips of autumn,
bracing themselves for the last dying, crinkly leaf to fall.
The sun desperately trying to warm their frozen bodies,
trying to bring the grey statues back to life.

Frozen in time, there is nothing the grieving statues can do.
Lost up in the clouds, won't come down 'til spring.
Won't turn their heads back down to earth until the colors form.
A scented breeze fills the air and the sun's rays beckons them home.

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