I hold aloft bare branches -
black lace against blue sky
beneath a warming sun.
Invigorated, I grow fuzzy
and break out in pale green.
People notice and smile,
and speak of spring.
 
Steadily I fill out,
balancing limbs laden
with breeze-catching leaves
hiding my naked form.
People come to rest beneath.
I rustle and wave
in bright sunshine
 
before my lush crown                                               
changes color and grows thin
with each gust of wind.
People come to see
and take pictures
or gather my lost leaves.
 
In chilly air, my balding
branches turn white
and grow heavy with snow.
I feel stiff and cold
down to my roots.
Few come to visit.
 
I stand silent, waiting
until a warm wind blows,
bringing youth and vigor
back to my veins. My boughs
leaf out green again.
Both taller and wider this year,
many can rest in my shade.
I grow content.

 
This poem first appeared in Songs of Eretz Poetry Review (March, 2018).
Used here with permission.