Sprig

New growth springs
from a gnarled branch,
raises its tender new leaves
toward the sky
like a small child
held aloft in twisted,
year-worn hands.
The hairy vine
of the tree's history
has grown into the trunk,
become a part
of the old branch.
It watches
the new sprig, waits, knows
that one day that
smooth new skin will be
thick bark, stimulated by the
tender abuse of wind and rain,
finally able to support
the creeping weight
of the past.