WHITE BIRCHES

WHITE BIRCHES

Wavy outline of a tree.

Hazy evening light;

I see sentinels stroll.

Tall and clad in white;

Ermine cloaked bole.

Birches speak to me,

I hear their leaves whisper.

Regular trees such a bore,

Compared to birches in a line.

Here you stand, mighty arbor,

Easily two centuries old,

Soaring above me, so bold.