Each tree
looks the same
to the uninitiated
and lost souls
that are unused
to the patterns
and marks
and subtle hints
that lead
the way.
You can’t get lost
when you always
know which way
is home.
A mild winter
creates the promise
of flowers
that will not bloom
even as
vibrant buds
peek out
delicate and new
The kiss
of raindrops
no consolation
for the loss
of summer sun.
It is in tiny signs
that the promise
is given.
In little nubs
and tiny bumps
in delicate buds
curled tight
and close
to damp branches.
Everything
curled up close,
waiting for warmth
to set free
nature’s promise
of a new start.
Cold
eats away
at the remnants
of months past
and with each day
more withers
and falls
to decay.
Lack of snow
won’t save them
from life’s
endless cycle.
One way in
and one way out
no deviation
allowed
as the pleasure
of what can be
experienced
in these moments
entrances
to persuade
the crossing
again and again.