Like trees and their wardrobes, as cold weather arrives,

So nothing remains,

Change touches our lives.

Spring’s gentle innocence, unexplored summer air,

Fall’s changing colors,

Winters cold and bare.

Like trees in a forest, Lives rub against our own,

Each life and each tree,

Stands where it was sown.

Leaves turn as seasons do, and close knit lives may change,

Brighter colors come,

We could not arrange.

New come as old trees go, a different midnight voice,

The first autumn leaf,

Drifting down by choice.

- By “Mr. BJ Hamrick” (a.k.a. BJ’s Guy)