Daily Poem 11/3/2020

The wind whispers and the

Trees let loose their

Gowns

Dancing naked in the chill

Waiting for their cloaks of snow

Their bark is bold and firm

Roughly hewn in texture

Tattooed patterns of the past

Etched into superficial

Markings of their growth

At their feet in golds and reds and orange

Spill the fabrics of the summer

With branches ready

Reaching

They will move to winter’s tempo

Be it soft, and slow, and snowy

Or in waves, and sheets of sleet

In the deepest cold and rain

Incased in icy sheaths

The trees will dream of spring

Dream of spring

Of rising greens and budding leaves

Of dresses full and twirling

In the warm winds of the hopeful

Buoyancy of summer

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