withstood the winter storms.
bare bent limbs reaching,
against odds to bud,
holding the sky
in a lovers embrace.
home to the sparrow,
the worm, and the squirrel…
shade to the weary,
a constant guide to the lost.
without name, without need,
rooted deep in the earth…
that gnarled old tree…
is me!

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *