High up
Is the window
Where the little tree gazes
Out, at the big tree.
A curving bay that frames
The white-walled sanctum,
Bright, quiet and airy
Like a Methodist chapel
At rest.

A simple wooden table
Holds a delicate tree rooted
In a small, square ***
As it gazes
Through the glass
At its giant cousin.

The Autumn comes outside
Its herald carried
By little, yellow leaves
Borne against a backdrop
Of lush, rain-wet green.