My eyes today behold the lordly hemlock,
its upper branches tall enough to pierce the sky,
its arms so weighted down by snow that falls
so heavily in feet and not in inches,
that the hemlock's curving arms
seem glued against its trunk.
I know this aged tree;
already it had reached a lot of height
when we first chose this property in 1992
and set our home here.
And so I know this evergreen will stand,
not the least impatient,
encased in snow and ice
until it sets the moment
when it has had enough
of this cold foolishness.
And then, if I am lucky,
I will see that moment when
the sturdy hemlock slowly raises up its arms
and shrugs away the burden.
The ice and snow will fill the air with drama,
and the tree will stand again in native green,
peaceful and unharmed.
---Rose Moore 3-11-2011