Squirrel run boughs denuded at leisure
in seasonal whims, reveal a treasure
in blossom, white, as frost
lays its measure
on lawn, leaf and lair.
In summer, this hybrid,
showed little in pleasure,
raised roots in protest
at pressure for moisture,
space, all stressors;
heaved through soil,
face first to hot air.
Like bones unearthed of predecessors
serve as reminder of depth, new aggressors
compete for a share, terratorial seizure,
force old from beds to new turf,
leaving the home of their birth.
Sharp wind as sever
to beauty in winter,
petals shiver their fall
to the earth.,