Trees

Trees
Beneath whose leafy canopy
The ground lies moist and cool.
Trees
That take the soft wind's sighing breath
And turn it into music.
In winter, curved and graceful, sleeping
Naked in the snow.
Virginal in springtime, tender,
Soft with fruitful promise.
In summer full and lusty, exulting
In union of sun and earth
Changing in beauty with every season,
But, loveliest in dying.

J.S Morin