One summer day, peering through itchy bushes
I watched the trees around me scream for someone
to glue together their breaking branches
and cool their scorching leaves.

Even nature knows when winter is near
Hope waters my branches, but it doesn’t stop
the inevitable from soon arriving here.
My mother says the trees must hurt in the cold
but I think iced lungs are better than
dry summer wind forcing my trunk to chop.

My mother does not see the protective coating of
Contentment
spreading throughout me
protecting branch from ice.
After all, the trees always come back
next spring.

When squirrels dig deep into my heart
and my weak limbs break
from heavy birds’ nests
and the pecking at their art
I’ll at least know that the ground is blessed
with Beauty.

I will hold my head up tall and proud
as children climb throughout my tunnels
and land on the soft ground
applauding as Beauty protects their skulls.

I have a million rings inside of me
each for a man I never should’ve loved.
They never quite leave-but none are quite as wide as she.

Fall comes again and steals my leaves
but the wind is Comfort
wrapping me in her warm embrace
tossing away any past need for sleeves.
And this winter, Love will show its face.