Through the eyes of a tree

I come in different shapes and sizes.

You can be sure that with me, there

aren’t too many surprises.

It doesn’t matter which way I appear.

The same routine unfolds each year.

When autumn comes around

my fingers and toes change

colors. I am the envy of quite a few others.

When the wind turns sharp and cold, Jack Frost whispers through

the air; my limbs develop a skeletal flair.

I’m left to collect winter's snow. Perhaps I’ll wear lights and glow.

Spring is in the air when my buds begin to bloom;

The ground starts to soften revealing nature's sloom.

This when we can be sure that warm nights are coming soon.

The sun shines brighter, warming my outstretched arms

As spring quietly approaches promising all of its charms.