Black Sage
Greasewood trees are always old And gnarled and twisted, where They crouch along the hilltop With ragged limbs in air.
Greasewood leaves are dusty green And dull and tiny, still Greasewoods carry cheer enough To brighten all the hill.
Greasewood bloom is neat and gay, Life elf-lamps burning high; Like little yellow candle-wicks Alight against the sky.
Greasewood trees are always old And gnarled and twisted, so They crouch along the hilltop With ragged limbs bent low.