The secrets of winter
give the deep dark redness
to the leaves of the crabapple tree.
I have no desire to prune or sculpt.
I am not wise,
but know enough not to try.
Rooted steadfast
yet its limbs sprawl wild
as if defying me.
Planted when I wed.
Imprisoned yet free.
My love for thee.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
The secrets of winter
give the deep dark redness
to the leaves of the crabapple tree.
I have no desire to prune or sculpt.
I am not wise,
but know enough not to try.
Rooted steadfast
yet its limbs sprawl wild
as if defying me.
Planted when I wed.
Imprisoned yet free.
My love for thee.
