The stark tree towered over the pink and green grove;
Naked of leaves, it’s twisted
Limbs exposing all its imperfections.
Surely it was no taller than
The others clothed and covered with late spring’s garb.
Yet this immodest tree seduces the eye to it alone;
Its branches, sculpted by life to a uniqueness of its own,
Are displayed wide and unashamed.
Its bent shaped limbs continue their reach for the sky.
Proud, its unabashed stance giving it added height;
The stark tree towered high,
As high as the bare rock cliff in its shadow.
Ariel
June 29, 2004
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| Three, Brother, Taft Bay CC Willow |
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