Blow, gentle wind, blow—

across the burdened trees,

and bend the branches low. 

 

The fury of the sun

scorched what he had won

before his reign was done.

And all the leaves are charred

and doomed, but clinging hard

to the life that left them scarred.

 

Fall, weary leaves, fall,

so the wind may carry you

to the rest God offers all.

–