Naked Tree

The bare tree stands tall Like a wrinkled old hand Of a witch Ready to snap at anything Brave enough to intrude On it’s territory Though it paints the image That lives in nightmares Locked in the fears Of young minds I see it’s wonder The naked tree No leaves to hide The essence of its beauty A thousand branches Each one stretching for The dark winter clouds Each one reaching For a different dream Completely graceful In every stride of it’s climb