You swept in slashing your brush with a vengeance
laying waste to lush, vibrant growth, in one swoop.
Acacia leaves lay crinkled and twisted, a rarity this time of year,
usually holding on til December when they would shimmer
as natures crystals competing with celestial star light,
but now Jack, they lay broken, shattered by your ruthlessness.
Hostas are twisted and drained of life as they collapsed
under your hard brush Jack. They hug the ground in shock
not having the time to wave in a late autumn breeze
in their goldness, shining amongst yews of green, they now mourn.
The ole sugar maple was assualted by you Jack, taken aback
by the onslaught of your harshness she dropped her leaves
in one day. I have never witnessed such viciousness in robbing
her of ancient golden splendour especially one so revered.
The walnut is now barren without fruit nor leaves. She had little time
to prepare against you Jack. New growth fell to the ground while
its fruit plummeted, smashing into a black stain, its skin
withered and black from your brush. Do your pots only contain death?
Ferns that once stood tall now are a crumpled mess Jack.
They huddle amongst each other, fronds amongst fronds.
Though they have the last laugh. The fern so named Autumn
grows green and is full of life. You were not as strong as you thought.
There is strength in nature Jack and while you were devastating
in your first strike, there are those that live on and will survive.