Trees in winter. Wish I could sketch those gnarled blackened barks split down the middle.
Siamese twins warring with each other.
Dancers
Warriors.
Tai-chi masters;gathering the stars;bowing to the moon
Shadow boxers
Shadow dancers.
But instead here is a poem:
Tree in Winter
Stripped bare of leaves and illusions
I take the brunt of winter gales
And though you do not see the moment
when I shift my limbs, fraction by decimal fraction
to better bear the weight of leaf and loss
You will see me any winter’s day
Offer my mute twisted appeal to the sky
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