Snowless Winter Woods
The oak trees are an endless sea of grey;
The waves roll over hills until they melt
Into a grey horizon under dim
Midwinter skies. The world is sepia toned;
The flowers in the glades no longer wear
Their splendid summer colors. Dry and brown,
They hold up their spent seed heads full of pride
Because they have achieved their destiny.
A dogwood tree lies cut, its swelling buds
A promise that will never be fulfilled.
Behind pale pointy palisades of reeds
The lonely pond does still reflect the sky.
December 14, 2016
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