Sure

A tree line.
Mist in the air.
Ice on the limbs.
Cold.

Your eyes water
as they take in the treeline,
the barrier between fields,
natural, a tall dark line

that makes a statement.
of place and ownership,
sure as a hug in a public place,
or words of love in private.

About this poem.

I have always loved the treelines between fields. This one is not far from my house, on the way to my favorite diner.

Everything has meaning, if we give it meaning.

Tom