A Tree In Winter
Ancient white bark tattered by age
Testament to the power of resistance,
Rigidly flexible in the gales of January,
Everlasting, the steadfast old birch
Eases through the years in my memory.
I fancy she still waits for me,
Now away on another adventure,
“When will the dreamer I knew return,
I haven’t shaded a book lover in years.”
Now the deep freezes of winter
Tighten their grip all across the land,
Erasing all thoughts except one hope;
Right around the corner spring waits.