Never mind the cold that creeps
among silent sentinels
that guard this place
where green has gone away.
Today they cloister shivering
to embrace the gifts of winter.
From frost-bitten branches
they hold them:
pearls of ice drape from them,
this monastery of trees
once shade.
They do not hibernate or sleep.
but stretch,
sweeping wind and sky,
longing for longer days.
among silent sentinels
that guard this place
where green has gone away.
Today they cloister shivering
to embrace the gifts of winter.
From frost-bitten branches
they hold them:
pearls of ice drape from them,
this monastery of trees
once shade.
They do not hibernate or sleep.
but stretch,
sweeping wind and sky,
longing for longer days.