Endings

by Emily Curie

Young trees grow,

 Then have to go.

Stores we’ve shopped

One by one have dropped.

Even though we love each pet,

Several years are all they get.

A picnic’s long anticipated

But gone when day has dissipated.

Nasturtiums cheer in orange and red;

By end of fall they all are dead.

I’ve watched it all

And know my Fall

Will surely turn to Winter days,

Yet I still love each morning’s haze,

Look forward to the coming Spring

When Nature stirs in everything.

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