Trees my father planted

November 19, 2009

The trees my father planted in
The yard when I was young
Are a symbol of existence and
For me what is yet to come.

Like the voices in the distance
Meshing with the saw
A vigorous persistence is
A key to nature’s law.

These trees now dead
Thrive no more (the victim of neglect)
Barren branches sag to the earth
Causing me to suspect

That to my neighbors they are no more
Than hideous, lifeless trees but
To me they’ll forever be a symbol of
The solid roots I’ll need.


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