The aspens are turning, my neighbor said.
I went to see. Mostly gold, some red,
They stood and whirled, their white trunks bare.
A bright sheen (spun gold) filled the air.
The whole big hill was turning, too.
Trees from the back came into view.
I tried with a toe and nearly fell,
Like stepping on a carousel.
Here came two close-together trees
Filled up with dizzy chickadees,
And some were upside down and clinging,
Some rightside up, but all were singing
A small, excited dee-dee-dee
As if to say, what a crazy tree.

 

Donald Mace Williams is a retired journalist and professor.

Featured Image: Photograph by Bonnie.

Related Post

‘A Poem’s Truth’ by Michael Stutz   A poem's truth, when presently revealed Inside its lines where they had first congealed Will fill you with a youthful ardent joy— Like fi...

2 Responses

  1. Don Williams

    Thanks, Joan. It’s nice to have had an appreciative reader. — Don

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.