After summer, the leaves of the claret ash change colour;
Upgraded are the efforts of last spring.
Temerariously, the fairies of autumn tint each leaf: rouge, tangerine, golden.
Ultimately a masterpiece, resplendent!
Merrily a gust of wind arrives with a chill, the tree shivers,
Not remembering to hold on to its marvellous cloak.
By Louise McCarthy