There is
no protection
now the wind
may hurry through bare
branch, no longer
deflected by futile defences
every leaf has defected
each one seeking refuge
somewhere
The cold winter wind will have his way, even if it means stripping all things bare and exposing them to his ferocious bite. Still, summer will tame him, and the leaves left new buds to dress the exposed branches in a fine spring outfit. Beautiful, compact poem, Mary. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So so tantalizing.