Winter Trees
By John Herlihy

The naked trees of winter look stark, lonely and obscure;
Autumn leaves no longer the season’s ravages endure.
The leaves blaze color, blush, then fall to the ground;
One final flight as they drift quietly without a sound.
Leafless branches in silhouette against the light of sky;
The cold loneliness invaded with eyes that seem to pry.
One glance suggests that the trees no longer belong;
The birds flown south and taken with them their song.
And yet a simple beauty prevails that cannot be obscured;
The tree’s harmony and balance make its truth ensured.
I pause for a moment, but not too long before walking on;
I feel now the force of a simple truth that I wish to prolong.
Soon the night will descend to bring the ghost of the lark;
I listen but hear nothing, as my eyes grow used to the dark.