Birch Tree

Let's shelve the angst and see the old

birch tree, leafless, against gray sky.
Its bare sprigs that will later carry green
and gold and tiny perfect cones
hang now like brown shawls finely knit.

Its white trunk and branches, bright
white in winter light, meander, lithe
and liquid in wind, never stiff like
conifers and oaks. Close up,

black hieroglyphs write themselves
into birch-bark history. Birch tree,
often solitary, growing its own way.

hans ostrom