Cold

What brave life to see!

these few, bunches of brown leaves

dead & still clinging to the oak tree,

covered in ice & snow

standing apart from the rows

of others whose every branch is stark bare

as if this mistaken one patiently holds this truth to share—

(that only we of similar roots will know)

Oh—how in the blind face of Time and mindless seasons

where so many follow so many reasons

to “let go”—

we (in this strange company) want to show

how best to be

in quiet conflict

with society.

By Joshua Wren