Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

waxing, waning

spring packed trees tight with leaves
only to bring them all to their knees
they take flight, landing at our feet
until trees tuck in their arms for winter
and fall to sleep, the cold grows
children wait for snowflakes to tickle at their noses
an old woman waits for her winter roses to bloom
and a dreamer waits for moonlight
to warm up her bedroom

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: leaf

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