Written in a Car

I was in a car the other day, going from my grandparents' house to my mom's. And suddenly, I really started to notice the shapes of the trees. Weather-wise, there's no snow obscuring the branches and trunks, but it's still early enough that there aren't any leaves either. It's been rainy the last couple days, too, and the contrast between the wet, black bark and the grey of the sky blew me away. I noticed that so many of the single trees I saw (whether by nature or by human artifice) had branches that absolutely spiraled out from the trunks. I could look at the trees and see movement. You have no idea how much I A. wished I had a camera and B. wished I could capture on film what I was seeing.

So instead, I cobbled together a haiku and recited it silently until I could write it down.

Here it is. I know it's a paltry offering, considering what I was trying to express, but I worried that if I tried to make a longer poem, not only would I forget half the lines by the time I recorded them, but that the poem's impact might be diminished.

----
The tree: twisted, gnarled
Bent from seasons in the world.
Still, in spring it buds.
----

Argh. I wish I was a better....poet? Writer? Something, anyway.

~Later