The
annual shearing of the trees in temperate zones
Coincides
with cold winds and long nights,
Synchronizes
with axis tilt and color changes, and
Staggers
the fallout across the breadth of days.
Tentacled
trunks, stripped lean and spare,
Proffer
their leafy harvest in a cyclic exchange of
Quid
pro quo with the earthen underground table and
Stretch
their branches and twigs in a yawn upon awakening,
From a
deep sleep beneath the leaves’ thick cover.
Deciduous trees throw off their spring and summer spawn;
Layered
and woven by wind and rain, the dark russet
Blanket
slips and falls across the soil’s girth.
And from every tower grown upwards in the search for a sun
Beyond
an earth-bound reach, each branch and twig
Is
another intention sprouted, a slightly different decision
Born
at an angle from the others and joined
In a
circular maze upon the breached air.
Their
stark ambition exposed in the harsh winter months
Their
suppliant offerings refused and fallen,
Their lined
palms extended in a bow to the cold winds.
© cmheuer, 2014
