Quiet Times: Tree Glory

When I walked the trail in winter I noticed the tree

tall, dark, and skeletal against the sky

with a strange twisted trunk.

An old one this, I thought

so easy to tell apart from the other trees

it quickly became my favorite.

I watched it all winter into the spring

when delicate airy green began to paint the forest

the twisted old tree remained barren

its branches still dark against the sky.

Someone said it is a walnut they leaf out last.

Finally a touch of green at the very top

a few weeks later so adorned in leaves of springtime

you can hardly see its twisted trunk anymore.

Now it seems a grand and vibrantly alive father tree

or maybe a mother

leaves ruffling in the breeze

bright against the sky.

Poetry and images by Cheryl Lawrence