The winter trees are bleak and bare,
Stripped by the fingers cold
That came along and left them nude,
Like shorn sheep in a fold.
In nature’s wide department store,
In windows on display,
They stand as naked mannequins
In their undressed array.
But world will wake one day to see
A sight astonishing –
The shiv’ring trees with leaves once more,
Dressed wondrously by Spring.
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I wrote this while eating lunch in a cafe recently. My
mind, for some reason, could not come up with the word
“mannequin”. I asked Crystal, my waitress, and she
gave it to me immediately and I was able to finish the
the poem before I left. I decided later to name it with
the word I couldn’t remember. Thanks, Crystal!
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The photo is mine, of trees along the Guadalupe River in Texas.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.
The Bard on the Hill 