Non-Erotic PoetryTrioletThe sap no longer flows, the leaves are leaving
And all the trees stand stark against the sky
As if, in nakedness, they are sore grieving
The sap no longer flows to leaves, they’re leaving
Before the freeze of night, the frosted heaving
Slipping silent as a ghost with no good-bye
The sap no longer flows, the leaves are leaving
And all the trees stand stark against the sky
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