across the lea a north wind blows
soon follows on soft swirling snow
to cover where the grass grows green
into the distance there alone
and flanked between a wall of stone
stooped low and twisted leans a tree
her branches bend her branches ache
caked heavy burdened they will break
or wait for warmth to set her free
throughout the winter chill and bleak
her aging limbs are weary weak
and shiver in the biting cold
long gone those russets gone the golds
the rustle of October bolds
in skirts that danced in autumn breeze
alas the verdant green of spring
will not adorn her frame again
nor will her blossom gently fall
no living thing is built to last
like us this tree was doomed to pass
though lovely is her memory