Along ancient paths
newly surfaced again and again
poplars, descendants of
the Aged Ones,
are whispering
in the warm summer breeze
Will i stop and listen?
Autumn will come
soon enough
and lash these chimes,
winter will find them gone
Now in this warmth only
is their message heard
for this season,
later the falling leaves
and bleak branches
will have another message
Life presses in
with it’s pressures
do this, do that
and hurry up
you are late again,
fill every moment
with a call or a text
until the pulse races
and the poplars
playful message of
peace and joy
cannot be heard
for another year
© 2015 Julie Clark
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