The late afternoon sun casts
mottled shadows on the ground
as light filters through the once
lush oak tree, now bare.
The leaves that do remain
hold on in desperation
or maybe resignation,
but I choose to believe
they hold on with hope.
The late afternoon sun casts
mottled shadows on the ground
as light filters through the once
lush oak tree, now bare.
The leaves that do remain
hold on in desperation
or maybe resignation,
but I choose to believe
they hold on with hope.