Naked (Poetry)

Winter has aged the tree —
exposed its wrinkled trunk for all to see
and stripped frail branches bare
torn free its leafy head of wild green hair.

And now bemused it stands
unable to disguise with thin-twigged hands
its skeleton — bone-stark
its kindest cover falling with the dark.

How different in the Spring
when days were long and youth was everything
eager buds unfurled
and dressed anew the emerald-skirted world.

Extravagant each fold
and flounce concealing weathered limbs grown old.
But Winter’s pitiless —
reveals the naked tree in its distress.