Summer Peeks into Winter
What are you doing there, Tree?
Are your leaves gone?
Did they not nourish seedlings
because you were planted
in this soil beside the road
in this tended yard
where nothing grows
without permission?
Do you watch me standing in the cold
beside my door?
Do we both look through your branches
to the grey sky and think of spring and new seeds?
How is it that we are here, Tree?
We are handed down eyes that see and leaves that worship the sun.
Summer visits us, Tree.
In the cold wind she sings to trees
of saplings and babies and bees.
david michael jackson
……image from Abstract Original Art
