Phil Stibbe

In winter she is stolid strength against the storm

Windstripped, bare rigged, her solid mast impervious

To the windlashed frenzy of her supple limbs

She stands, sails stately where the clouds fly

Or, stays steady on a still night, snowpicked spars

Sparkle with frosted moonlight

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In spring she is a breeze-born mist of nascent green

Teasing light wavering on the edge of vision, a bright

Elision of lightly born budding easing sideways

Always just beyond the grasp of sight

Or, on a breathless evening yielding to a gentle eye

A shy glimpse of tomorrow's promise

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In summer she is a rooftree arching, branching

Arcing over dizzying heights, effortlessly bearing

Shimmering interleaving tons, proofed against 

The staring sun and sudden rains

Or, luminescent in a long-drawn dusk, returns to sky

The borrowed sunlight of a lazy afternoon

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In autumn sunlight she is fire, a blazing brilliant

Burst of scintillating self-consuming flame, showering sparks

Upon the cooling, cool, chill, indifferent air

A glorious reprise of summer before the freeze 

Or, when the autumn sky is overcast, a blush

Fit to shame the truant sun.