You and I, we were always
too un-supporting, limbs careering,
threatening to break, failing to
hold, easily bared of our camouflaging
bark not thickened enough to shut out
cold air trapped between rings of years.
When that one last blow toppled
our newly rebuilt canopy many stories
high, leaves streaming to brittled ground
like corsages unpinned and thrown
down on one more spring's eve, you and I,
we stood in place just long enough
not yielding, not resisting.
© 2013 Maureen E. Doallas