Passing

It was the last of three autumn trees

...rust and golden leaves rested upon frozen ground

 

I lifted my head and released a greyish breath

...my cloudy soul rose among barren branches

 

I felt a sadness...I thought of the passing of our mortal place and time

A second breeze cleared a path of  fallen leaves

 

As I walked along the icy ground I felt a peace at last

...all things pass, I realized...and that is the beauty of an aging place and time

Looking back I heard the humour of three autumn trees....like Three Laughing Monks