This tree wraps the sky in its arms, a promise 
of salvation buried beneath bark 
as leaves peak at the surface, buoyed 
by the world’s pledge of protection 
softly cooing on the wind.

The breeze dissolves as all things must 
into an atmosphere of unmoving refuse 
where changing winds turn away 
against the backdrop of cows laying still 
under the too-slow warming sun.

And still this tree shivers looking ahead, 
optimism scrubbing bark clean of dirt 
and other residue otherwise clouding its defense,
stronger in the effort while grasping 
at the heavens, uncertain as they are.

© 2020 | Phillip Knight Scott

Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Still