Dead Tree Poem by Jean Bernard Parr
Dead Tree
white and cat skinned
the storm did for
this muscular trunk
lets straight off debunk
the two hundred proudly
stood years
please, no tears, you were
from day one a runt
an oak will go down
like any other
become home to mice
voles and worms
shelter creatures of
the bustling undergrowth
girth no measure
of sintered worth
in epochal terms
this tree will not be less
for loss of uprightness
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5/6/2024 7:44:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
