it glows
like a van gogh in
frozen
streaks each of its feathered limbs curved gently upward
and i find myself pausing
at the edge of the drive
to stand very still in the fresh needles of freezing rain
as if anchored here too
stretching my arms overhead
like some arthritic unpainted mime
not because i need to make
a statement
about anything just that every now and then
like the silent
unfolding wings of the tree
something stirs within me trying to say
it believes