Day 800

photo

Only when all the leaves are gone
And it’s stripped to its bare bone,
Does the tree come into its own,
Stark, basic, simple, plain, alone.

On show, each and every flaw,
Defoliated, unclad, in the raw,
Broken, knotted, gnarled they saw,
Yet the Elements, they gnaw and gnaw.

The years, they take their toll,
The bark hides rings of stories untold,
The earth, the roots, the light, they hold
The planet, in a loving fold.

Only when all the leaves were gone,
And it stood with nothing on,
Did the scars like sunbeams shone,
And twists, crags and bristles adorned
The silhouette of the proud Anon.

Only when all the leaves were gone.

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