Dried arms of maple
Reach up to embrace
They are bare now
Naked and wrinkled
Grey
Like the skin of the old
Still
Hope remains
Tangled neath’
Their knotted knuckles
Soon to wear
A shimmery coat
Bejeweled and brilliant
In the afternoon sun
Coating our hearts
Against the bleakness
Of January days
Wrinkled yet dressed
White
Like the skin of the new
And so
Hope remain
Growing neath’
The crystal coverage
Tiny embryos of green
Dreaming of spring
Awaiting their chance
To be born.
by Reide
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This entry was posted
on Sunday, June 11th, 2006 at 10:22 pm and is filed under Seasonal Poetry.
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