Chilled to their Inner Rings

They wait for spring,
those intimate winter trees
at the end of the garden:
unadorned birches tall,
bare and skeletal
white trunks shining,
patient old friends
chilled through with icy winds
and frost each morning.

Kim M. Russell, 9th February 2019

Image result for paintings and artwork winter birches Pinterest
Image found on Pinterest

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Just One Word: Sensation, also linked to Poets United Poetry Pantry

Marian is our host this weekend with just one word to inspire our poetry: sensation.

44 thoughts on “Chilled to their Inner Rings

  1. kaykuala

    They wait for spring,
    unadorned birches tall,
    bare and skeletal

    How the anticipated arrival of spring is longed for when cold nights persist. Your words say it all. Kim!


    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh yes, they wait for spring; as do we all! I can only imagine how they must feel out in the harsh wind sometimes feeling the chill on their branches. So bare and barren. I empathize and share the same wait with them.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Stoic trees are most unlike humans that must always be on the move; but stay where they are and endure whatever they are tested with, and hoping their children can find somewhere safe place to put down their roots. Yes, this is a most beautiful write Kim.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I like the white birches but we don’t have them here along the Texas Gulf Coast. So you are jogging my memories of Colorado and New Hampshire. I have no idea of why some trees survive the winters and others don’t. Last year we lost two large bottle trees.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh yes, Magaly! The closeness of a copse, wood or forest, and all the trees whispering together, telling stories and reciting poetry to get them through winter. I’m sure the trees in our garden do.

      Liked by 1 person

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