Leaning

She is bent now

like a tree that leans

paying homage to the earth.

She spins yarns of days

on Colorado plains.

She rode fierce on a horse

putting cattle in their place.

She loved a preacher

in a time when a woman,

stood by her man

like a dress in the door.

She was the stronger,
of that he was sure

and we, too.

She doesn't say 

but we know she is ready. 

Her body betrays her, 

and hurts.

She'll leave us adrift

and we'll wonder

if there's life

beyond the leaning tree.

Tree photo by Luke Andrew Scowen Creative Commons via flickr
www.flickr.com/lukeas09

"She" was my grandmother, a towering tree till she died.

In response to an Every Day Poems prompt to write a poem using
the phrase "beyond the leaning tree"