The Aspen

White powder covers living green. Leaves flip and turn in the breeze. Trunks curve to reach the light. Scars from battles they had to fight. Lovers names traced in black- Bandages to hold in the sap. They grow and grow, Despite the snow. Ghosts of trees stand at winter’s door, Sprigs pop up from the spring floor, Cream amidst the summer green, To fiery yellow in falls scene. Thy beauty stays throughout the year And it fills me with joy, my dear.