The Sideways Tree

Here are some lines for this strange time.

 

Everything is up

Until, of course, it’s down

With the exception of my tree

Which leans casually

At ease

Tipping south by south west

As if on course to set sail

On a close haul to a far away place

Though it is anchored here

At rest

Leaning on a limb

Pressed into the ground

Perhaps waiting

For Spring

Or a rising tide

And a gentle gale

To bring us all home.