Winter trees
Branches like arms
Reaching out to the sky
Begging for leaves
As they shiver beneath gray skies
winds bring cold air,
ice and snow to its bereft branches
The evergreens smile in comfort
Snarky brats that they are
Spoiled by Christmas adulation
Loving to be decked out
In strings of popcorn
Sentimental ornaments
Glass Santas, elves, bells
Lights of red and green
But woe to the cut evergreens
When January comes
And they are stripped bare
Tossed to the curb
Bankrupt and useless
Sad sights down snowy streets
Winter trees and discarded evergreens
Melancholy taking over after
the holidays join the past
Linda K. Miller is a messed-up poet on her last lap, trying to stay up with so many world changes and yet knowing that nothing ever really changes. So where’s the swinging pendulum going to land this year? Next year? Ten years from now? Wish I knew. Wish I could find a true psychic. Any tips?