A Tree’s Lament to Winter

He dances into my world on the wind
Swirls around me with abandon

I hold my ground, steadfast, steady, sure
He can’t budge me with his wicked whispering
Can’t move me with his stormy moods

Nevertheless, he strips me of my dignity
Leaving me with nothing but my naked needs

He laughs when the children play in the
Scattered remnants of who I used to be


~Torie Amarie Dale

Published in The Petigru Review