The winter has come

a poem by Shailja Mehta

We were once
green and fresh.
But now, are
all tinged with brown,
we have lost our colour
we have lost our youth,
with each passing day.
We grow old
the winter has come
and we must go,
falling one by one
we’ll soon be dead,
resting on the cold ground.
Whispering winds will carry us away,
but we won’t be gone forever.
We’ll be back the come spring,
to lend once more our colour.
It is a debt
that we must pay
to earth again and again…