The Wind of Season
by Kristen J.
November 4, 2004
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The Wind of Season
I stand outside
my coat zipper pulled up to its highest point. The cold November air sliding down my body like a snake, I can feel it , the leaves, the wind gliding into a new season like a boat gliding into the sea.
I hear the whispers of the old brown leaves
under my feet as they crinkle saying goodbye to the tree that has been their home, taken away by the wind of season.
I see the new leaves being born from their Mother tree
I hear the giggle of the leaves as they are tickled by the wind of season.
    The process of life and death
being born and reborn is all clear to me now.
But I have to thank my one helper, my teacher,
    The Wind of Season.