Red-Headed

The cold & the hoar frost both remind me of you
And the rediscovered country of yesterday

Is invoked by an old song on the radio.
Yes! I often revisit those halcyon times

When it seemed the whole wide world was naïve and young
Blossoming with the arrogance of callow youth.

But that is a fragile flower and it gives birth
To strange fruit that slowly ripens with many hues,

Shades of colour plus great diversification
With many evolving species before it falls.

And fall it does! Sometimes closer to the tree than
Anybody really expected. However

In the long run none of this will really matter
Because the roots of the tree last eternally.