Encounter – III

   
Encounter – III
     
The “polar vortex”, with its deadly cold,
Has now retreated to its northern lair.
It will return, we’re told in forecasts grim,
But now we’ve rain that melts away the snow.

I walk tonight and see the streetlights’ glow
Upon the trees that glisten in the rain.
There’s rind that’s white, like freshly painted wall,
And other, dark as rain-drenched bark can be.

I stand before a strong, gargantuan trunk,
And see the sinews braced beneath the skin.
And looking up, I see the branches flung
Towards the starlit sky in ecstasy.

How beautiful are trees – for winter bare!
If only skeletons could match their grace,
Then when men died, we would erect their bones,
So those still living could admire the dead.

So much to see – for one, who's limited
To walking back and forth, each working day,
Along these city streets, as light and dark
And seasons, years and lifetimes circle ‘round…

2014 January 12th, Sun., 2:10 am
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York