Leif Johnson

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.



Leif Johnson

Leif Johnson

Wildlife biologist turned writer. This is my library of ramblings on everything from conservation to noisy neighbors.