Old oak – for dVerse — Björn Rudbergs writings

old oak waits till last
carefully unfolds its leaves
when blackbirds sing

under its lime-green canopy
purple frog-cups whisper spring

in oak-leaf carpet
acorn sends a sapling forth
gnarled old father

squirrels battling noisily
only one can rule this tree

Frog-cup
Today at dVerse Poetics Abhra wants us to write poetry about trees. We are fortunate enough to have an oak in our garden. I wrote this set of brief poetry of the oak in spring. Come join us at the pub when it opens at 3PM EST.

via Old oak – for dVerse — Björn Rudbergs writings

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