The Winter Tree

The tree enters the new year much the same
as every year, with empty branches save
a few resigned leaves clinging to the flame
of life. They are not obstinate or brave
they are just there.  It knows the old routine –
the long, hard nights as winter’s cold embrace
holds sap and sunlight captive.  One day green
will wash away the whites and golds and greys
of winter, but for now the pale light shows
bare arms, snow-shrouded roots.  A narrow ring,
engraved upon the heartwood as it grows,
will hold this winter tree’s remembering.
The year is done and much is gained and lost,
all held within the tree ring and the frost.

Rich Clarkson, New Year’s Eve 2020