Tall, brown, it stands bare,
branchless – while the other ones
wear their white-trimmed green.
A/N - Every now and then in the woods you see one...a tree that has died, lost its branches through attrition and time, perhaps struck by lightning sometime in the past. They pick up interesting names - snag, widow-maker, and other things. Very visible on a fine winter's day when all its neighboring Ponderosa or fir or other evergreen compatriots are dressed like a Christmas card....The cycle of life goes on.
Fluff....but not my usual format. Not sure where this one snuck out of my brain from....
His kiss brushed against her cheek
as she worked without a sound,
pulling the single silken thread
taunt against its ground
circles of white against soft blue
the thread went round and round
until he stilled her hand.
His eyes met hers, a soft gray blue
that watched him watching her,
a smile crept knowingly across her face
and almost in a blur
her needlework was laid aside
and it never did occur
to her to try to stop him.
And so she sewed a different stitch,
as pliant as a willow,
Circles of white against soft blue
his hair upon the pillow
She wrapped their silk around her hand
to let it go and billow --
the end of a much more pleasant task.