The neighbors right beside us
Have a stained glass tree
And you can look through shards of glass
Free and easily.
And now our yard is piled
With yellow greens and gold
Where wind has knocked them out their leads
Because they’re getting old.
They’re flying off their spires,
Minerets and walls.
The Son who gave them life, He
Breathes music through their falls.
For in their deaths , so dazzling!,
The light shines through their pane;
The mighty warriors of this life,
Fall ’round us like the rain.





