Crisp Grasp

One day I watched a tree shed all it’s leaves in an hour.

It was a young tree..

It’s haste left me rooted to the ground

It was taking my speed

My need to get it done get it done get it done now

get there now

do it now

have it now

My ineptitude in the art of waiting

Or was I poisoning it?

My mere presence sapping this tree of it’s youth

Bulldozing it towards winter’s crisp grasp