Snow on City Trees
In every region of the Earth, we see
That Nature teaches men humility.
The nations of the northwest rule the planet –
A source of pride for every John and Janet.
Then winter scowls and shows the northern tribe
It can't be stopped by force or bought by bribe.
The polar vortex whirls, as gutters freeze
And blizzards drape, with snows, the city's trees.
It snowed all day – but now at night it thaws.
And as I walk, I see the trees and pause.
They stand unmoving, yet they seem to fight,
With darkened forms, against their burdens white.
The evergreens are bent with powder-loads
That slide and scatter on the snow-plowed roads.
The trees that spread and arc appear in flower,
As if to mock this blustering season's power.
A skeletal tree is limned in dark and white.
Bereft of leaves, it still gives stark delight.
With tracery of twigs against the sky,
It does the winter, with aplomb, defy.
The trees are comfort for my weary eyes.
Their patience lives, when all our hubris dies.
I thought they're fighting. Now, I see they're not.
With snows, they're dancing – at a leisured trot.
If men, like trees, would dance with Nature too,
It might be pleasanter for me and you.
2014 February 3rd, Mon.
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn
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