Curled, crisp and brown, clinging to the twig,
an oak leaf twists and turns in the breeze.
Driven by the winter storms,
sheathed at times with ice,
not until soft spring whispers,
and the twig swells with new life,
does the leaf release its hold.
Blown into a hedgerow,
settling on the soft growth,
melding with fresh earth
to feed small rootlets reaching
for the mother.
And so my fingers, bent and stiffened,
hold against life’s blows
until my soft spring releases me
from this hard core
to find another.
-Mary Beal 2/2/14
Related articles
- Oak Leaf Tanka (friendlyfairytales.com)
- Shooting the Split (www.essexonlakechamplain.com)
- Oak Leaf Ghosts (theartroomplant.blogspot.com)
- Full and By Farm: Dreaming of Spring (www.essexonlakechamplain.com)
- Hope Springs! (communitygardensforall.org)
Brenda says
Lovely poem! I’m so happy you liked my Oak Leaf Tanka. Cheers, Brenda