Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Winter

is on our branches.
The tree limbs shudder in the breeze,
narrow bony fingers
fronzen at the tip,
ready to break.
I would like to cut them,
take them home
with me
and put them in warm water.
Watch them thaw.
Watch their insides bleed.
Winter is upon us,
like some robber in the house,
ready to steal
what little
we have left.