Stands the Maple

Saps run before the weathers –
hordes of sugar in the root –
what little stays – thin and capillary,
above ground, contests
the filigreed fingers of water
with denser sweets.

And thus, unleaved and nude,
what to the eye appears barren,
rude to the dog-eyed sun,
summer nests exposed as frail,
stricken to bone and squirrel run,
stands as a man I once knew –
propped by his own root,
wide as shade and none other.

Image: Fabrice Villard on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.