A Tree is such a wondrous thing;

The wind hides for brief moments

In the safety of her branches,

And the Cardinal finds a place to sing.

Her leaves paint the country side,

With colors that are never the same;

Stoic, she stands in a winter's night,

Watching the snowflakes glide.

If only she could tell her tales;

Oceans of time have passed her by.

Her twisted look and wisdom gained,

In the stormy nights and windy gales.

© William Power 2012