still day almost no breeze

reveal the trick and it seems very small
the show's what matters and it matters much
against the morning sky each tree stands tall

there are no dances at the mourning ball
the things that count slip each one from our clutch
reveal the trick and it seems very small

what pleased us once now just seems to appall
the former stalwart now leans on a crutch
against the morning sky each tree stands tall

not one may answer when we dare to call
the rabbit stays well-hidden in its hutch
reveal the trick and it seems very small

in shallow seas not much remains to trawl
and what we find we would not eat as such
against the morning sky each tree stands tall

as summer ends we watch the old leaves fall
the fading glory still responds to touch
reveal the trick and it seems very small
against the morning sky each tree stands tall