Treasure Island

alex sarich

(9/9/51 / Swansea. Wales. UK)

A Tree


Dwell not on misfortunes
obsessions, rancour and
cynicism, memories age,
encoded in bark
I am a Tree.

Wrinkled and wise
rooted to the ground,
budding leaves of tears
I am but a Tree.

Seasons sow tireless seeds
flowing prated themes
not yet known but still
I am a Tree.

Ages past it seems
without end and rainbows
circle unshadowed skies
for history remains intact
I am but a Tree.

Written April 2010.

Submitted: Thursday, January 27, 2011
Edited: Thursday, January 27, 2011

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  • Mehri Mehraban (12/4/2013 2:57:00 PM)

    A great, great poem. You reallly feel a tree and describe it. Thanks for sharing this fascinating poem. (Report) Reply

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