There’s a tree outside my window
That catches fire every morning,
When the dawn light slowly flickers
Through the ripples in its awning.
Shimmering and winking
Like the embers of a dying fire,
Burning hotter and brighter
Until the rising sun retires.
The tree stands tall and bright,
Rising high above its neighbors
With bark and leaf, and trunk and root
Through rain and heat it labors.
Silhouetted by the morning
It’s burning branches sway,
To and fro they wave and sing,
Like an accordion at play.
But the song will soon be over
When the long night sets in
When winter cold grows bolder
And the morning light grows thin
Wind will bellow from the mountain,
Swiftly racing down its slopes.
Blowing out the fire and
Erasing summers hopes.