Bony Branches

I once beheld
cerulean skies of summer
while standing under bony boughs
of sleepy winter trees










They twisted in a languid stretch,
to soak in rays of saffron
Their hands extended longingly
as far as they could reach


There was no place
for doves to hide above me,
Nor did they seem concerned to be
without their leafy screens

I understood their fearlessness,
and felt their sense of safety,
 As paralyzed with wonder,
I breathed the same warm breeze.

I took all these pictures--and a few more--yesterday evening and this afternoon as I went walking around our little town. Trees are just a fascinating subject for me: the young, beautifully designed ones, growing in balanced harmonious sculptures, and the old ones, maimed by countless ice storms, yet sprouting forth with stubborn new limbs to form exotic shapes against the sky. Anyway, here are a few more for your viewing delight.