My Walks

My Walks

I took a walk the other day,

Visited by passing winds along the way.

Some forcefully pushed the branches,

Causing me to take several glances.

They called to me through tree branches,

Singing melodies, what are the chances?

Leaves turned gracefully, ballerina’s pirouettes,

Until frightened winds cast down the remaining assets.

It intruder pushed through the outcropping,

Tenuously attached leaves downward dropping.

The onset of seasonal change it was proclaiming,

To the sojourner listening, little summer remaining.

I still take my walks from time to time,

Through undergrowth and whispering tree lines.

And in the limbs and branches above me,

I hear echoes of times to come, falls artistry.