On a cloudy, showery day
with overcast and gloomy skies,
the wooded spaces have a certain gleam –
an otherworldly brightness
in contrast to the dark.
As spring returns,
the ghost trees linger:
holding tight to leaves from yesteryear –
no sign of green among them,
only sun-bleached transparency remains.
Are they reluctant to let go
of memories of warmer times
and sunnier, carefree days –
or are they protecting the tiny buds
that soon will come, again?
Either way, they know and value
the reason for their existence –
providing a sheltered place in the forest
filled with life and growth –
for that which was, and also is to come.
“the ghost trees linger”
I did not know about the ways of American beech trees. What a beautiful way to learn about them. Thank you.
I’ve seen that sort of tree here in the last few years and wondered about them. Thanks for enlightening me.
I loved your third stanza, you’ve brought the trees to life with those words. We have pin oaks that do the same thing.
I’m so glad those “ghost trees” are about to come back to life! Love your poem and its reach into life… not just the trees in the woods. Profound.
Absolutely lovely. Nature is endlessly fascinating – I so enjoyed the mystical feel of your poem.