Enlivened

It stands, rigid and gauntly forlorn 
on the fall landscape
black, knotted arms raised bleakly
to the clear blue sky as though to
reclaim its place as the elder
whose sentry-vision
secured the arras stretched
before it, unsentimentally forgetful
of its once-august presence,
wise in years and the history of
its observation. Yet some empathy
for lost glory is in evidence
by the warm embrace of a vine
which crept steadily over the years
to embrace dead limbs and
kiss the skeleton with the love
of its seasonal crimson leafage,
life's spiral even in death.