NOTE: The following sonnet first appeared in the Covenant Christian High School student paper, The Crier.
The eerie echoing wing-song of the geese
Spreads south across the cooling cloud-grey skies
To tell that winter’s cold white hand shall seize
The helpless land and all that therein lies.
So, too, the ever-dying trees do print
The tale of their demise in glorious leaf
In many colors, each o’erlaid with tint
Of frost that winter etches in relief.
Then slowly varicolored leaves turn brown.
E’en that which makes them lively soon is gone;
Then laughing children cruelly crush them down.
The gripping hand of winter pities none.
E’en so the winters of our souls foretell
Their comings; milder, if we heed them well.
Originally Published in:
Vol. 29 No. 10 February 1970