Mountain Parable

Poem

Murmuring, prattling,
leaf-tongues
whirl in the wind,
scattering
to curl
inarticulate.
The last leaf
turning, burning
whirls
in the fire-blue air
and falls.
But on the skyline
adamant
the evergreen
defies, denies
the wind,
the tongue-destroying
wind.

 

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