A Poem by Sofie

My tree is the movement of the seasons.

In fall it is working hard to let go as if it
were a mother trying hard to let go of each leaf
like a mother letting go of each child. Some will wander away
as though the leaf were going to college. But as quickly
as Fall came winter comes leaving tree bare as though
it was a house vacant with only a mother to
spare. But then Spring is there. Then comes the rebirth
of leaves. Then the tree is contented with all the leaves.
Then summer comes. All the leaves will grow as though they
are children children growing up.

And the cycle will go on...