I walked in the woods
To talk to the trees
“Hold on to your green”
I pleaded
“Hold on, please”
I just want a few more moments
Before the change
Before the fall
Before the cold creeps in
The trees always know though
When the greens’ turn is over
And the yellow and orange and red
Finally get their turn in the fleeting sun
The trees just wave gently at me
Hearing my pleas for time
They let the breeze whistle low
Through their thinning branches
“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”