(First thing I ever wrote, circa fifth grade.)
Green her stem
Green her leaves
Red her garment but then–
I was there on that day in fall
She had lost her leaves, her garment, her all.
But wait! There’s still a hope–part of her garment is still there,
Torn from her heart, her heart so fair.
Then I discovered a very sad thing,
She wouldn’t be back ’till the coming of spring.