In the soft light of the winter start,
down the frost covered and weary trail,
my eyes glimpse striking shadows and forms,
with final autumn breathes they stretch,
tall and stately, swaying in the wind.
From high above the shimmering earth,
long flowing arms of wood and bark,
that twist, sweep, split and bow,
quiet and bare but, not unkempt.
Though they be scarred and worn,
this woodland sight ‘til now unveiled,
with their verdant coats now gone,
hanging heavy in each bough,
ancient memories still untold,
woodland winter beauty unfolds,
warms my soul down to the core,
my forest walk at winter’s dawn.
Poem by Daniel Tardona
Raised in Brooklyn, New York, and following many diverse career transitions, Dan worked for the National Park Service and published scientific articles and museum exhibit text. Recently retired he decided to branch out and try short story writing and poetry. He has published a few of both.