January tree

 

I look at you January tree

Trunk and branches forlorn

And lovelorn.

Black withered witches fingers

Claw at an unremitting steel grey sky

As you reach high

And try to tear a rip in the firmament.

Would that you could steal some sun rays

To warm our wooden winter hearts.

I look at you January tree

Small, stoic and silent on the drabbest of days

I reach out to tell you by touch

That I too feel that self same yearning

 Share your grief at the

Lack of colour in a day with no birdsong

And I wish us Gods speed

Until spring spreads her smile.