"I CAN SEE PEOPLE LIKE TREES WALKING"

Tree rings by Beren Hartless

Groping towards the light,

Glimpsing it, then
Wrapped again
In frost and darkness,
Only a few grow old
And continue growing.

Ring after ring of agony

Laid down and bound
Together with considered reflection
And accumulated wisdom,
Hale and hearty,
Or withered and bent,
The precious few
Enlarge their tents,
Finding the universal hope:
Love, longed for
By the young and strong.

B.I. Hartless