Thinning Live Oak Trees in my front yard. Photo by me taken 3.29.14
Thready, bare limbs, a few scant leaves hold fast.
Live Oaks, near stripped of leaves, their neighbors fill.
I pray that drought, neglect won’t spur demise.
Majestic guards who welcome guests with shade
throughout each year, repelling frost and sun.
To lose them now when they are needed most
would change my home, and wound my caring self.
We age like that– a halting step, dark spots
a brush that fills with hair, split nails.
We want the sun but fear a fall, a chill.
Then Spring comes in with fragrant flowered breath
And we arise to wave our arms and dance.
In rainbow shirts we frolic in the park
We braid our hair with daisies and we sing!
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 3.29.2014
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Gay -ohh I do hope your trees recover – would be a sad loss – loved the last lines of your poem- I’m on a similar wavelength 🙂 K
we want the sun but fear the fall….great line, and so true…
the first bit on the trees is so sad…i hope spring brings them
back to life in the same resurrection we often find
once winter is done.
Me too. I’m getting those three fertilizer sticks to slow feed them and will try to get them watered. Will be around in a bit. Thanks for the kind words and your work as always!
Oh, I hope the tree spirit is strong if only the sky river would bring a bit of rain to quench
it’s thirsty roots.
Gay, this is absolutely beautiful. I love the imagery you have painted. I think we are all ready for the change of season! I totally enjoyed the reading and rhythm of this blank verse too. I also wrote a blank verse this week to share.
Thanks Ginny – Will be round to read sometime. I keep getting delayed and I have a few from yesterday to catch up with! See you soon!
A bit of care may do the trick to keep your trees healthy, Gay. I’m sure they would welcome the tender loving care after a harsh winter. I love how your words took us into the beauty and renewal of spring…feels so alive and happy.
Guess trees had more winter than they needed, as did humans.
(We used to sell cow manure 15¢ a bushel, you brink baskets, we lend you a shovel!) They would spread it around those trees… But GAY, what I really like (naturally, me–grin!) is the HAPPY ending, LOVE it: “we don rainbows
we braid our hair with daisies and we sing!
Thank you, Ma’am!
Thanks Steve – I’m hoping if we can survive to celebrate life and spring and rebirth, our spirit will spread to my sad but steadfast trees!
I think I recognize a fellow flower child doing the writing ;)…lovely thoughts of spring, finally!
Yes everything is slower than usual coming out. The trees are beginning to have buds but have never seen my live oaks so bare as they have foliage year round. They shed in February and then put on and the neighbor’s trees are already filled in but mine are not…yet. But the world is flowering and days are fair and we are ready to become the flower power of old Thanks Kkkkkkaty!
oh what wonderful oaks… i do hope they make it through the drought… love the mood in the last few lines …the dancing in rainbow shirts and braiding hairs with daisies… so much life-lust in this..
the opening is beautiful…there is something I find, in general, about trees…so majestic. every loss is a shame…I do hope they spring true.
I love the shift in the second stanza to the parallel between the tree and our own aging…lovely all around!
So beautifully penned – do so hope the oaks survive.
And we are like that…
Anna :o]
A lovely celebration of Spring for all of us anticipate. Hang in with your trees, sometimes it takes a couple of years for them to recover from a harsh winter.
Thanks. I appreciate your comment and your knowledge. I know they were stunned by the ice storm so perhaps they will recover. You’ve given me hope for the trees and a warm fuzzy for the poem. 😉
Let the mighty oak be graced with emerald leaves and welcome guests for many more years…beautiful lines…
Trees dying.. nothing can be sadder.. and with your reflections it turn even more important .. it’s like when your friends are dying…. I love the end though.. as spring is here let’s go barefoot and enjoy.
My wife is from TX, and we visit often. Most folks do not realize the severity of the weather there, with drought for months, followed by flooding & inches of rain, where ice storms can descend, where the sun can lead to skin cancer; great feel of place in this one. Love the lines /and we arise to wave our arms/and dance in rainbow shirts/ really resonates with my old bones.
Indeed Glenn – this year was filled with extremes exacerbated by the neighborhood drainage project sending Kobelcos down behind our yards and in
the street in front as they dug out a soccer field to double as an overflow reservoir. The trees were shocked with the last solid ice storm coming after a week of fair weather. It’s a challenge to keep stuff (and people) alive here and wouldn’t be possible to get past middle age without air conditioning. I wonder how many survived here prior to the 1950s and past their 50s! For me, it’s mandatory. Yes these days this last two weeks have been halcyon – in the high 60s, gentle showers some days and soft sunshine others like today when it will reach 77. One does want to gambol in the park (with its new sidewalks) — smile.
Oh yes, this one hit home–both the drought and the aging! Great analogy. You write so well.
Thank you Victoria, so do you!
The eternal promise of spring renews us all, regardless of our advanced years. I love this message, and I hope your trees recover.
A beautiful poem, Gay! I particularly like the tone and spirit of the second stanza. We have had warm weather for a little while and I can relate to your optimism and enthusiasm.
I love the idea you wrote on my blog for National Poetry Month…I was thinking about the short form as I share in tomorrow’s post, but the idea of adding a photo is so good. Thanks.
a yearning….very beautiful!
Beautiful poem, Gay. I can identify. I loved the metaphor & can identify. Truly, I think all of us of ‘whatever age’ are ready to wave our hands and dance again once spring comes again! Spring definitely is a mood changer, an invigorator!
This poem shows a lovely evolution–the worry over the potential loss, followed by the break into singing. Well paced, graceful language, a very classic feel to all of it. Very nice work.
Steve K.