Memories of Snow

Ancient Cottonwood

Ancient Cottonwood

In my Grandfather's yard
stood an ancient cottonwood,
gnarled with age,
its roots exposed to the elements.

every spring,
its special beauty,
released cotton feathers
to float upon warm air currents.

from weathered roots grew
offspring-clones;
its essence reborn
in distinctive leaves and bark.

Winter bestowed a stately elegance,
as naked branches
swayed
in the wind.

Poet's Note: ▶︎

I wrote this in 147 B.E. The inspiration was the memory of the cottonwood in Grandpa Frank's front yard.