The Lark
Published in

The Lark

Bare Branches

Poetry

Photo by Abeer Zaki on Unsplash

Buffeted, battered,
Bent by bitter, brutish winds.
Broken bark and branch.

Howling winds mourn.
Crashing through wilderness.
Necessary pruning.

Calm days will return.
Nature in glory will bloom.
We will all rejoice.

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Christine Frances Annette Andrews

Christine Frances Annette Andrews

I am retired, enjoy reading, writing and painting watercolours. I keep a curious outlook on life. Remember the past. Live in the present. Welcome the future