To Kevin
The same tree blossoms that stands bare.
The same silhouette against sunrise and sunset.
The same tree stands in May that stands in December,
Once delicate with buds, and then with frost, bitter.
Spring to autumn, then to winter.
Fruit will ripen, bark will splinter.
Wisdom of nature, not of men,
We learn, we lose, not comprehend.
Copyright © Ashley Poort | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment