Snow falls quietly
from grey skies,
reshaping black
leafless branches
of a tree that
has not yet confused
its age with
its strength.
Tree conspires
with sun and moon,
seamlessly
rearranging
the shadows cast
upon the worn
cement squares
we pace on.
Weather be damned,
this tree shall
cast its shadow
regardless
of season
or year
until some
fickle human
decides to
remove it,
annihilating
all proof
that anything old
ever existed.
Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. Janet prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers. A lot. Her column appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.
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