The wind sings a foreboding tune,
As it rattles through the empty limbs.

Everything that had once belonged to the trees,
Is now laid out in full array, blanketing the earth

A single red drop falls from the canopy above,
An entire community has been bled dry

The bands have all packed up their instruments,
They are off to find a more hospitable crowd

the brown and yellow carpet no longer crackles,
nobody is scampering through it anymore

along the muddy banks of the stream,
the footprints of the guests are disappearing

they have all enjoyed the party very much,
hopefully they still have some candy to take home

the family is all gathered around the table,
there is a look of apprehension on their faces

there is a pile of nuts in the corner,
father says, “we must make this last”

the underground club is quickly approaching capacity,
everybody is trying to get a table

the woods feels dead now,
except for some last minute shoppers

the curtain has been drawn on this years’ performance,
the cast has taken their bows, and retreated backstage,

they are resting up for their new roles,
next, they are performing a skit called, “spring”

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