The Soldier Trees
Autumn sunset drops, bunkers down, into a purple sky.
Outlines a matchstick forest, an army, bayonet silhouettes.
Naked trees shiver, shake off leafy jackets, mourn, sigh.
Branches stretch upward, reach out, for warmth, heat.
Bony skeletons, brittle bones, wear helmets of ice.
Glass trunks moan, grieve farewells to the sun, creak.
Memories, ghosts, soft rain, sunshine, haunt gnarly skin.
Snow clings, coats, wraps, blankets, puts them to sleep.
Rough bark freezes, cracks, yearns, to feel springtime again.
May first, true love, rebirth, kneels, proposes to empty limbs.
Vows, engages, with rings of green, soft blossoms, like velveteen.
Petals burst open, exhale fragrance, whisper peace into the winds.
Honeybees fly, buzz, make summer honey, sweeten the breeze.
Romance, slow dances in fields of flowers, apologies for winter gloom.
Pollen sprinkles, yields medals of leaves, salutes, honors the soldier trees.
