Inspiring air animates my trees,
informs their crowns and trunks, their leaves and limbs
when rousing Santa Ana winds increase.
The ancient trunks are limber as they sway
and bow; their scions lunge from side to side,
then pause before they pirouette to play.
Each tree’s a dancer and Aeolian lyre
beckoning me to join them and aspire.
by Ralph La Rosa
Editor’s Note: The iambic pentameter and rhyme lend this poem a meditative slant that complements the seasonal scene.