The Tree That Britches Saw
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Hoarfrost
During the frigid night
Hoarfrost has embraced her branches
As a tight fitting tunic,
Tailor made, just for her.
Night wind's chafing bite
Has long since given way to crisp morning air,
And snow has lengthened into fog,
Past where aqueous eyes can take in.
Facing east, car's window rolled down,
A broken barb wire fence, this tree,
And a subtle hint of promise,
Where a rising sun will soon be.
This tree sat alone in a large pasture and was a sight to behold.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2012
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