The Tree Poem by Matthew Holloway

The weathered tree stripped bare
broken branches hang still
as though to scar its nature
no birds nest here any more
a thing of beauty has passed
into a beauty of another kind
colourless in the backdropp of sky
roots rise and fall into the ground
etchings of forgotten loves
remain as eternal memories
no lovers shade here now
the tree stands as though defiant
unwilling to relinquish to time
that which grew so tall
not dead, perhaps dying
stripped and broken it stands
the weathered tree
a work of life's true beauty