Hardy
Three sisters- once verdant,
erect queens of new but
tenacious roots,
protected by moats it took us
days to dig,
willed themselves through
winter in disgraceful
tatters, their needles disintegrating
brown leather burned by
brutal winds,
but hope erupts slowly,
creeps greenly from their
fingertips steadily toward
their centers,
each restored cell, a mercy.
2 thoughts on "Hardy"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Lord I love this witchy brew of a poem – creeping greenly, and hope does move mighty slowly, don’t it?
It shore do. Thanks for reading. ❤️