Old Retainer. - Open for poem.

Old Retainer

 

 

How many more winters will this 'Old Retainer' feel.

With snow on it's branches and frost on each bough.

It casts a long shadow as it stands all alone.

With the cold winter sun, present now.

 

This sentinel, alone, keeps a doleful watch.

Its dark, sullen branches, damaged and torn.

A rest only for corvids that brave its comfort.

As this tree moves and creaks in the grip of a storm.

 

No ivy clings to warm this lonely soul.

No shawl of life to wrap its aged form.

No evergreen blanket of woven leaves.

For this arboreal figure, course and forlorn.

 

Broken twigs fall and gather at it's feet.

A branch. A nest. And insect riddled bark.

It's damaged trunk is lain naked and bare.

This beech's deep heart-wood defies the dark.

 

Will new buds break when spring comes to beckon?

Will leaf and flower grace this old tree once more?

Will it feel the summer's sun and cooling rain?

Will autumn strip its golden leaves as before?

 

This grand old retainer stands proud on this land.

Of faded grandeur and farmer's field.

Embracing this winter as many before.

And to this cruel season, it will one day yield.

 

Marianne (copyright)

Done