This tree my time keeper

845

John M. Figueroa

This tree my time keeper
is brown with berries now

When last I looked it had
no leaves, was stiff and white
with frost.

Now green leaves and brown berries toss,
toss and bob in the whipping wind.

It is not Spring beyond the horizon
that the bucking boat is heading for,

“It is not Spring with its false hopes,
it is not Spring”, says my time keeper,

“but bitter berries, bitter and brown
and full of wisdom.”

Only in hard winters, they tell me
will the birds touch these berries.