seasons

the last leaf
on a bare tree
stands apart -
flapping with abandon
and one stalk of faith
that holds her for now,
in this one moment
of past, present
and tomorrow,
captured and felt
in her veins,
throbbing with the sap
of a fresh day,
while her partners
lay spent and burnt
upon a singed earth,
both she and them
waiting for
the seasons to turn,
coaxing them slowly
into their skins,
changed, grown
and newly worn.