HOLDFASTS

The alpha oak is nearly naked. December gusts
Have stripped the limbs and twigs. The lonely leaves
Are few and ragged, weather-blown and grieving,
Rebels, declining to be deciduous.

Perhaps they prize their lofty privilege,
Reluctant to take that reasonable release
To soar and glide and join their numberless
And lost companions clustered in thicket and hedge

Awaiting dissolution. But could it be
They want to be free for the downward drift,
But the trees, when only a pitiful few are left
From the summer’s lavish foliage, mercilessly

Grab and hold the desiccated stems
To force postponement of autumn’s requiem?

(162, December 5, 1994)

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