A tree
Like a weary man, waits.
His proud spine refusing to bend
He stands, arms outstretched
Hands reaching to the unforgiving sky,
His tired limbs sway, but he stands
Refusing to succumb,
His legs planted firmly, defiant
Of the world, it seems, he stands
Where no other dare,
Precarious on the rocks,
Strong against the wind
His breath drawn thick and white
Around his face like a scarf,
Watching and waiting,
To stand forever alone