Colors We Have Wept

I stared long at the denuded 

branches, glanced down and lost 

count of the striking fire-gold leaves 

in piles at my feet. This tree, bare, 

bark-splitting, seems to have wept 

all of its colors away on this first day 

of November 2020 that stands calm 

with streaks of titanium-white clouds 

like brush marks above my head,

and I feel a deep sense that one day,

maybe a clear morning in March, 

I will stand here again and both 

me and this tree will be filled 

with new colors, our roots 

quenched, our arms reaching 

to a bright sun, content to soak

in that familiar warm light of spring.

—C.L. Fisher, November 2020

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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