Death in Christ

AFTER

THE

FALL

Half alive
Is November
Into death
Sinks December

Leaves lose grip
All once green
Converted colors
Float serene

Their musky scent
Like incense rise
An unseen essence
Which never dies

But skeletal filaments
In earth decay
All new life must
Someday lay

And just like Eve
After the Fall
Our mind must turn
To God, our all

So through bare branches
He'll help you see --
Snowfields of pines
The Christmas tree!