Shrubbery Poem by Kayci Lamb

Translucent veins dot along the arms of once alive bark
Stillness and cold forcing past greenery to fade into geometric shapes

The shrub now a tangle of twigs
Death hanging low on its bare branches

A single color coats the bush
A grey-brown, akin to rat's fur

Skin to bark brings an almost burning chill
As the plant's green heart is frozen

A movement in the air makes the growth sway
Like the graceful skirt of a ballet dancer