#99 - Tall

On cold winter days,

The old tree near our village

Wears a thin layer of snow.

In the Spring,

It covers itself in green,

Slowly changing and disrobing,

With autumn approaching.

But each year

There are fewer leaves…

One of these days,

It’ll be time to sleep.

- - - - - -

The wrinkles around my eyes

Also deepen as days go by.

And each morning,

The mirror stares me in the eye,

As nature gently smiles:

Don’t worry,

It’ll be fine.

Like the tree,

There’s still some time…