still mostly upright
you and me
creating our turbulence, creaking
through every loaded barb,
our branches whip and recoil
scrape and crack

bits fall off and
we're up to our knees in our years
in dead leaves and bark chips
broken off our customary selves

underneath the sap still runs
builds itself up, takes
a deep breath and
puffs out its chest

ready to burst out of its leaf buds