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