This ol' tree

This solitary tree of hermitude
knotty, gnarled appendages
humble and modest roots
exposed to all eyes un-ashamed.
Frozen in a state of being
bone branches reaching
straight for the winter's sky,
like an invisible gangster
keeps you at perpetual gunpoint
forever robbing you of treasure unseen.
Occasional bird companions
tell tales of favorable bird-winds,
their friendly talons
scratch ancient itches
in exchange for
a passing pit-stop somewhere
between here and there.
An unmerciful winter's breeze
cuts through your bark valleys
and pitch-pocket peaks,
a harsh reminder of spring's absence.
Warming memories weaken
the cold's calamities,
while the setting sun
casts shadowy smiles
as friendly reminders
of warmer days to come.
Yet another cold night approaches,
so forever this tree reaches.