"Change"

A tree in spring
Has new buds of green
That will grow and bring
Happiness to many.

But the tree grows restless,
And the leaves that were best left
As they were are changed
Into colors they think strange:
Red, orange, yellow, and copper penny.

For a short time
The tree is satisfied.
But soon he will sigh
And the leaves will die,
And drop like the Queens of King Henry.

All through the winter,
The tree stands bare,
All alone, without a care,
Not a single one, not any.

Spring comes once more,
And the leaves once again adorn
That tree of mine.
It's one of a kind,
Unique among many.

Change is required,
Although we are tired,
In order to grow,
To learn, to know,
And be different than any.