Me and My Tree

short poem, nature

A cold front sweeps over the mountains
as the sun paints the horizon a parting farewell.
I stand alongside a bare tree and swallow a swig of beer
as a warm wind whispers a secret to my cheek.

The front pushes the daylight away
and scowls a storm at the rest of the world.
I gaze upon this barren tree and stroke its leaking sap...
sap seeping from these roots I planted so many years ago.

The cold is laughing tears of ice and snow
as it fiendishly overwhelms us.
And I stand here, beside my tree, my friend,
and stare off to the distance as I swallow another swig of beer.