From A Tree’s Point of View, a Monday poem.
Winters tree
Nigel Borrington
People pass me by without a second glance,
No one likes the ugly tree with no leaves.
My branches extend out in every which way,
Getting tangled within each other.
I look still on the outside,
Yet inside, water and nutrients course through my tissues.
I stand in wait, until the season comes,
When my arms are no longer bare and the fresh, green leaves can hide away my hideous outsides.
mdancer1399
Polk City, IA
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