By Diane McDonough
Cape Cod Branch, Massachusetts
There is a message in the trees
in June
as basswood branches flail in reckless wind,
and drenching rain thrashes leaves,
and in late July,
when lightning strikes an oak,
its splintered trunk, festooned with fungi,
raw, and reaching for what may come
as October strokes the birch leaf gold
embracing loss of light,
drifting into brown,
and whirling down, down —
and even in the wisps of glistening snow
blowing off the pine that gives me pause
in the unfazed frigid December
dawning.
LOVE THE WAY THIS POEM IS LINED UP.
IT’S A BEAUTY ALRIGHT. THANKS FOR SHARING.
I love the power in the way the reader is pulled forward anticipating the next season.
Beautiful, as usual, Diane. As beautiful as you are.
Diane, This is so lovely and so true. Thank you for sharing your poetry,
Suzanne
Thank you for the beautiful images described with such creative wording and rhythm.
I’m clearly in this moment with you! The imagery is stunning! Thank you Diane.