Winter Months

Every oak
Holds tightly
To the last moment
'Til it can hold no longer
To its beauty

And then it stands
Without adornment
In a cold world
For months

But to all the trees
Who lose their leaves
I promise, I promise,
I promise...
There will be a spring!
a tree

About this entry

Login with Facebook


  1. Wayne Leman Sat Nov 01, 07:06:00 PM EDT

    I like it, Dave. The repeated promise at the end is esp. nice.

    I wish I could write free verse. I consider myself a neoformalist, I guess. I haven't written too poetry lately. If you'd like to see some of mine, it's at:

    There's a link for a free download.

    When you get a chance, please change BBB in your blogroll to its new address. Thanks, Wayne