Hands of Time

Flowers have faded

Like memories gone by

Petals adrift

They find places to hide

~

Nuts fall in rhythm

One, two, three, to the ground

Where some are buried

While others wait to be found

~

Mushrooms make their way

Up from the earth

Out of darkness

Comes a time of new birth

~

While the leaves glow

Bright yellow, red and orange

Then float like embers

Down to a land that’s foreign

~

A landscape that’s changed

By the hands of time

That turn the soil to compost

From where new growth will climb

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