James Martin lives and writes in London, United Kingdom. 

Languid trees defying nature’s call
By James Martin

The languid trees defy the calls
Of howling winds
As febrile squirrels remain afloat, not burrowing
—nor furrowing with fear

The sun that shines wanes only with time
—Running out of steam and light
At three so cruelly the trees seem too tall
—the gleaming balm of warm is no more

But the night—when time is reset
Is a day like eternity beget
—Mad swirling in the mist
because thoughts are too brisk

Yet the woods with their crumpled leaves
Put one man’s footpath at ease
—As the night like the day—break remain still
—With the urge to grow only curtailed by nature’s kill