Evening view from our deck, Pacific Northwest

Enya remembers trees
and I would rather, too.
Remember, that is--
summer trees--lush and green,
flower draped, glistening color and sunlight.
Full of life, saturated with purpose,
giving shelter and shade,
returning live breaths to the atmosphere they inhabit,
covered head to toe
cloaked in a wardrobe of wonder,
branches raised in praise.

But alas, the truth is--
bare branches framed against the sky paint a stronger, more sure picture.
Their form and structure
revealed only by what isn't there...

no leaves
no life
no lush-ness.
Just barren bones holding up the air--
a perch for birds perhaps
or the perfect place to hang a swing.
Solitary strength
a support for others,
a trunk for clinging to,
leaning against in the fiercest storms.

Strike that.
Autumn trees are best,
showing me what's needful there
to grow on, build on, add to when the summer comes...


                      Solomon Episcopal Retreat Center
                     Rachel Zoe DuPlessis. Used by Permission
This poem is shared with Tweetspeak Poetry for their June theme: Trees
and with dVerse Pub for Open Link Night #50  Join us!


  1. As one who loves trees, I was drawn into your words. I love autumn trees, too, and I also find that the bare limbs teach us much. I love this "Their form and structure
    revealed only by what isn't there..."
    That gives me much to think about. Thank you.

    1. it is such a joy to have the words that God gives me turn and be so well received. I'm always a little amazed, frankly.
      thanks for sharing your thoughts.

  2. These are great lines:

    "cloaked in a wardrobe of wonder"
    "barren bones holding up the air"

    1. Thank you. I've noticed over the year a lot of alliteration shows up in my poems, just by letting the words flow.

  3. Love the changes in this poem - just like my mind works sometimes. Very enjoyable read.

    1. Thank you. Our minds are a wondrous creation.

  4. nice...i rather like the autumn trees as well....the anticipation in them and the creek old like a tree swing though...we have one out back...nice progression in this...

    1. ah, tree swings. Hadn't thought about those in a long time. My brothers would agree with you.

  5. Lovely! I would rather remember trees, too.

  6. There's definitely a drama in bare limbs. And I think it's the thought of loss that makes it all so powerful--which you've captured. So sorry re book! Will do! Absolutely! I have a problem with snail mail so may just send from Amazon. k.

    1. thank you, Karin. Sometimes when I set out to write I'm surprised at where the lines take me.
      you're a dear to send your counting book. I'll be delighted WHENEVER it comes.
      thank you!

  7. I love the way of this in painterly terms. You have the sense of form and body the space with emptiness and fullness. I understand what you say here, but I like paintings where the fullness and emptiness balance each other out, as in those lovely Zen paintings of mountain passes with fog and trees, and there seems to be an infinity of possibility. Asit is, your poem is wonderful for how thoughtful it is.

    1. Thank you Charles. I so appreciate what people see sometimes, beyond all the words I write (in between?).

      Ahhhhhh, to be able to paint. I'll have to settle for art with words.

  8. Oh, gorgeous writing, enjoyed this alot!
    And the pictures!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

65 is Just a Number

January Bird