weight

big fat wet
crystaline globs are attacking my trees.
only two are vulnerable.
the pair of ash still have their leaves.
they fill and bow under the burden, inches
thick. it piles up and bends them over.
i woke this morning to find them
splayed open, from the top down.
they could crack under the weight.
i went out there with a rake,
trying to release them. up on my toes,
i reached as high as i could.
i lifted each branch,
gave it a shake. thick wet snow tumbled
down onto me, all around me, rested on lower
branches.

those two trees... they are the last
to find their leaves in the spring
and they hold them late, too.