End Days


She’s starting to falter.

Colours less vivid;


as vibrancy leaves her.

Reflections of Autumn

fading and wasting,

losing defences;

the job of dying commences.

Cold days arrive

as she fights to survive;

shedding last remnants,

she shivers.

Saplings getting stronger –

surround her.

Shielding and warming,

hoping to restore.

Wind is howling

a farewell swan song;

echoes around them –

She has gone.



Saplings are growing –

on soil she rests upon.

She’s nourishing,

feeding them;

and so she lives on.


I think we all live on in the people we leave behind – family, friends and even casual acquaintances. We hold on a to a little part of everyone we meet.

In response to the daily word prompt shiver


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