.

That barren branch
high above this desolate space
Crooked shade designs on a dying earth,
bent and twisted of past sunlight’s reach
Naked to the green-less world
Rough hewed collections
of ant trail pathways
and rot of all that was good

Once filled with life, happy on the breeze
Summer fashions of leaf pattern wishes
Vistas of blissful post card greetings
Bearing fruit of friendlier times

Now rests in solitude’s wicked grip
Knotted and splintered bark winding
to a fool's ending in winter’s calling
Cold fingers on gray-cast skylines
dying of desperate missing,
fading into a bleak sunset
Disappearing somewhere beyond the dark,
that barren branch – me