The Hollow Tree

on a bright morning
summer\s faded splendor
abounds now the time has come
for the changeling
living deep within a hollowed tree.
as marigolds and mums
tantalize our senses
he comes and
we are unaware
blissfully savor
late summers beauty.
the pungent orders
layer upon layer
surrounds us
replenishing
our capacity to
taste his work, his dreams
and the promise of change.
swiftly, so swiftly he works
soon leaves once sweetly green
now dressed in cloaks
of many hues as
leaves spent and dry
mark his work upon
the weary earth and and time.
whispering words of sleep
he turns to the ever faithful
morning glory's
withering on it's vine
he works his magic.
a lone quince
falls silent
meeting it's tryst
marks a beginning
seeding anew
now
he rests
his labor done.
he returns to his hollow
in a tree now barren of leaves
to wait through the long winter nights
for the coming of the maid of spring.


deep within the tree
the sprite child dressed in dark green
weaves magical spells