The City’s Trees

 
The City’s Trees
 
The city’s trees are beautiful.
They comfort, through the year,
The harried folk who’re passing by
And chance to stop and see.

******

In spring, their tender leaves appear
And some are lit by blooms.
In summer, dressed in richest greens,
They shimmer in the sun.

In autumn, as they shed their leaves,
They blaze in many hues.
In wintertime, they’re stripped and bare
And yet are clothed in grace.

We see their twisting symmetry—
The balance in the dance.
We marvel at their nudity
Beneath the winter sky.

******
 
That winter sky can be as gray
Or clear as mind and soul.
All winter long, the trees will stand
As clouds go floating by.
 
The clouds are changelings and we too
Are changing, day by day.
The trees are slower beings, yet
They dance, as humans age.

We wait for spring and so do they—
For spring will surely come.
And summer then will follow soon—
And autumn in its time.

******
 
The seasons come, the seasons go—
And in the city’s streets
The workers rush about—and some
Find comfort in the trees.

2015 December 19th, Sat.
Brooklyn, New York