The daylight angles different now
dark shadows cast across this yard;
what once was bright fades brown to gray--
as life now passes to decay.
The leaves grow sparse, the chill invades
and brittle does each limb become;
the sap flows thick through every vein
but deep in root, a spark remains.
Like armillary sphere, we spin..
past sun and moon, through spring and fall.
Each cycle speaks in steadfast clue;
for all that dies is birthed anew.
© Ginny
Brannan September 2012






