The woods outside my window are war-torn
Filled with red, orange, yellow soldiers
Fighting with each other, themselves
Who can standout most gloriously
A perennial war they fight
From rounded treetops
Through jagged branches
To dark moist ground below
There’s no winning the battle of color
All pushing, shoving, name-calling in vain
Eventually all leafy soldiers brown
And the snow hushes all clamoring
Poetic Alchemist 