chasing_sunsets

The Tree

Draped against the setting sun is the

black silhouette of a tree without leaves.

In the late autumn he is bare, like

a skeleton, quivering in the breeze.

 

Upon his limbs perch the birds, gathered

to provide their friend with good company.

But when the season becomes too cold

they retreat to where they will be kept warmly.

 

Forgotten, then, he will stand amidst the

open field, unnoticed by all who happen passed.

And not until the air is warmed will

his friends return, singing of sunniness.

 

The tree is alone when seasons

are cold, and cherished when seasons are warm.

He must learn to brave the winter while

standing there, frigid, naked, twisted, torn.