The skeleton tree
Leaning silently to the right
It was as if the skeleton tree
Was weighted down with winter weariness.
Fragile branches reached out
As if there was some help and
Gentle succour to be had.
Phalanxes brittle and desperate,
Spoke of remembered leaves and
Luscious red berries
Aflame with life and joy.
Even the bark looked withered,
Bleakly forlorn.
As I walked in quiet dawn,
I paused to breathe and inhale the frosty air.
Small buds whispered of resilience
And promised resurrection.
It was not a skeleton tree after all.
Wendy Westley was a successful nurse and midwife for many years in the National Health Service in the UK, and now writes short stories and poetry in retirement. She belongs to a creative writing group and has had her poetry published in poetry journals and magazines- Amethyst Review, Pulsar Poetry webzine, Seventh Quarry Press, and Spirit Fire Review. Her first book Sun hats & staying home was launched on 1st March 2025 in the West Midlands
Amethyst Review 