They stand as sentinels against azure storms
Assured as most storms of life, it's supposed
Although bared of dress, although naked as jays
Winter's trees umbrella from worst of those
Emptied of warmth, why stand themselves here
None rest beneath, cold is this grayness
Determined, enduring Hail's hiss, they stay
Limbs upturned, beg the sun from her shyness
These brown-barked sentinels recall blue-green days before
With soft nests of down in lofty leaved reaches
Where bodies there under sparkled in prisms
When leaf-scattered-light danced on now barren benches
They stand as sentinels against azure storms
Barbara Attaway
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sentinels/
