The Trees Are Bare (A Jazz Song) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The trees are bare of leaves today
With many laments inside the ground
Now winter's here on earth to play
With thoughts from dark newfound

Tress that had leaves
In summer of June
Now in their grieves
Of a frosty afternoon
A thought of love song
Has left on to dream
With hearts to prolong
Its melting bloodstream

It shouldn't be ended
Though summer love dried
And frosty drops blended
What with autumn has died…