Ode against a dying tree

See the breath, cold tree, flowing out from near to far
Smoky-stop, I don’t know why
this breath disperses,
pooling leaves turn gray
Even young blind nature
with all its vivid color
will decay

flowing into you
this stream can turn to
vanity, or love, or so its name

if time had nature
and you had time
to stop

to see through sight’s illusion
we’ve come to live
in brief
fleeting moments
where we do nothing but try
exchanging breath with trees
on the cool
autumn stroll

– poem by Sam Kaspar

I work as a doctor in Iowa, and am originally from Canada. I am an avid rower, hiker, and hobby writer.