The Highest BranchBy Eric MarcarelliCobalt clouds over tangled branches. The world smells of wet wood. On the top of the tallest tree, A tiny bud sprouts. Time passes and the world dries. Brittle brush breaks and burns. On the top of the tallest tree, Dense leaves soak up the sun. From the Pole a brisk wind blows. The world is a firestorm of color. On the top of the tallest tree, The royal branch has a crown of gold. A harsh frost descends on the wood. The world is dressed in white. On the top of the tallest tree, The lonely branch is frozen and bare. But one bright day the snow melts away. A crystal stream cuts through the wood. On the top of the tallest tree, A tiny bud sprouts. |