The summer was too long and warm.
The treelords in their high places
Confederated once the nights grew darker,
Exchanged rootwords with the willows of the valley.
The oak and the horse chestnut were all for it
Suffocating in their summer cloaks
Longing for their browning, branch-baring,
Leaf-mulch-moulting season.
The beeches on the high wolds murmured to the moon
Thinking of the old, cold days
......
The summer was too long and warm.
The treelords in their high places
Confederated once the nights grew darker,
Exchanged rootwords with the willows of the valley.
The oak and the horse chestnut were all for it
Suffocating in their summer cloaks
Longing for their browning, branch-baring,
Leaf-mulch-moulting season.
The beeches on the high wolds murmured to the moon
Thinking of the old, cold days
......