Oh, Naked Tree

Do you feel me?

Oh, naked tree just staring at me What is it you see from where you be?

How does it feel to have your colors revealed only to watch them fall to the ground and blow away?

And now, there you stand with your naked hands just empty nothing to hold.

Does anyone stop and look at you the way I’m doing now? The way they do when your colors are true?

Do you even see me here? Or are you sleeping through this cold, gray time? Do you feel me here?

When the snow frosts you beautifully with a layer of icing, does it wake you? Do you feel alive again? Do people notice you again?

I see you now in your nakedness in your grayness standing there quiet and plain.

And I know inside you burn with passion waiting patiently for the sun the rain the heat to touch you and open you up once again.

Or maybe just the soft brush of a hand to remind you that you’re not dead inside.