Trees of November/Michael Kwack
The season deepening,
Trees become more beautiful;
And when in November,
I come to the woods more often.
Seeing the trees over and over
Steals and steals the heart of mine;
And soon we become friends,
Or even lovers.
Then, before being aware,
Imitating those trees,
I spread my arms,
To stand upright, for long,
Touching the wind,
Looking up the sky.
Trees, too, resemble
Those who are fond of them,
For every tree I see today
Seems to wear a human look.
Perhaps many fancy ladies
Have been so much liking them.
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