On Storied Wood

On Storied Wood
-for Ivy Shuman

I never knew that every tree
holds the fire
of its dying
that it lifts its leaves
its branches
like arms and hands
in ancient prayer
only to be cut
by the slanted shave
of Winter’s Bayonet.

Poem by Nancy Himel

Nancy Himel is a newly retired English teacher currently living in Tucson. She has been published in Prairie Schooner and has two poems upcoming in Amethyst Review. She loves owls and angels.