Yellow Tree

A thousand melodies flock to her hair

with sharp talons sinking into grey flesh

and sharp voices cutting through autumn air

in a choir mourning before sunset.

Leaves gather at her feet to keep her warm;

the parts she had to sacrifice leave her,

but she will stand her ground beneath the swarm

and dig her roots into the earth deeper.

Silence for songs, death for life, loss for love

eternal darkness for golden hour;

you must wither for your time in the sun--

you’re only borrowing all that power.

To live is to die, you must die to live

and you will never live this day again.