Winter Tree

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The winter tree
does not move.

Its wide trunk
plunges into graven earth,
unseen roots, grasping hands
feel deeply the living soil,
hold firm anchorage
against the coming storm,

but rising wood, thin
though strong enough
to paint slender lines,
trails into purer air,
gives shelter
to Christmas birds.

They hunch on stems, quietly
waiting to sing open
the dawn.

(12/23/2011)

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2 thoughts on “Winter Tree

  1. When you write like this, Steven, the skies open up into song. What makes this so wonderful is the drama you manage with words like plunging, storm, and rising, but the last stanza, after the last line of the stanza before

    to Christmas birds.

    They hunch on stems, quietly
    waiting to sing open
    the dawn.

    turns the poem into a paen that rings through the early morning world and wakes up the rising sun.

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