Foliage
In the unforgiving
Winter months,
My bones are brittle sticks—
My skin is dry leafage
In the sun.
I need the grass to pop up
And cheer me on.
I am a tree
Beaten by the winds.
I need my foliage
To keep me warm.
In the unforgiving
Winter months,
My bones are brittle sticks—
My skin is dry leafage
In the sun.
I need the grass to pop up
And cheer me on.
I am a tree
Beaten by the winds.
I need my foliage
To keep me warm.