A single great tree
Stands in a yard across the street.
Its gnarled branches reach upwards
As though trying to scratch the sky.
Crisp orange leaves fall from it like rain,
Leaving its sepia boughs unclothed
While the air around it
Becomes a whirlwind of color.
This poem came to me while sitting in my high school Theology class and looking out the window to a tree in the yard across the street.