by Mark Caldwell-Reiss

I.

Solitude, Oh Solitude!

Trees are still, yet live.

Autumn leaves in multitude,

Gold, brown, scarlet they give.

II.

Trees are still, yet live.

Waiting to be aged.

Gold, brown, scarlet they give.

My senses are engaged.

III.

Waiting to be aged.

A thermos of coffee.

My senses engaged.

I eat a sandwich by a tree.

IV.

A thermos of coffee, waits for me.

My house, my work, my world not here!

I eat my sandwich under a tree.

Commune in nature, a great new sphere!

V.

My house, my work, my world not here!

Autumn leaves in knee deep multitude.

Commune alive in nature’s own sphere.

And under this tree, here’s my solitude.