Trees of Stars
Contributed by Nan Potts
A glitter, then another,
More spark within my beam.
The headlamp sweeps on branches white,
Starlight ignites a theme.
The frost of hoar, grows as beards,
Needles, minute, take form.
The point of freeze, past point of dew,
Forge stars in trees — now swarm.
Its origin, Old English,
“The old man’s beard”, ‘tis said.
His stubble, shaped of snow and ice,
Shines brightly overhead.
Gnarled arms of birch and rough shrub,
Don a lace-white mantle.
A discord of sharp, fragile points,
‘Fore the wind, dismantle.
I ponder these lights of ice,
Awe of Nature’s splendor.
Their luring twinkle, spawns a sigh —
An opus played, tender.
My lamp sparks this nighttime show,
Aglow with dazzling light.
A treat for me, as on I go,
Wandering in the night.