Mangled by Ann-Marie Ferry

How lovely are the mangled trees?

With cattywampus roots and knots

Whose branches move like dancers

Like tilt-a-whirls, Like spiral stairs

They breath among the upright

The uniform solider trees

As I enter the woods

I notice the monotony of these static creatures

Each so as the other

They are the foundation, the roof

All others grow as children in their home

But I love the mangled beings

who grow along the waters clear

For beauty comes in many forms

Old swollen knuckles tell a story

And knots speak of toiling years

I can't help but to admire

Mangled, cattywampus, lovely, resilient things

For their beauty is intangible

Their flourishing, awe kindling

Ann-Marie is a writer at heart and a registered nurse by profession. She is a wife of ten years to Jon and a mother to their four children: three daughters on earth and a son in heaven. Ann-Marie’s poetry ranges widely in style and topic. She is a regular contributor for Sharing Magazine where she writes about high-risk pregnancy and stillbirth through the lens of faith, shining the light of hope on grief.