And this, our life…
finds tongue in trees,
books in the running brooks,
sermons in stone…
William Shakespeare
finds tongue in trees,
books in the running brooks,
sermons in stone…
William Shakespeare
Beside the creek–
Water low within its boundaries,
Frozen in its slow places,
Banks edged in white;
An old tree leans out tentatively
Trying to bridge the icy water,
Touch the stream it shaded
Last summer
Last summer
Next year
It will be firewood
It will be firewood
Stacked neatly in the barn
And along the back porch
To warm us for another
Season to come.
What’s Good About Home! 
I like this photo and your poem about the stages in the life of the tree.
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Thanks Martha.It is difficult to find pretty things to photograph outside this time of year since Oklahoma is dry and brown.
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