Kathrine Pierce

Growth

A baby is born,
A seed is planted.
First bib is worn,
A beginning is spouted,
A word first said,
Some branches are lane.
Littlie holes are mend,
Tree strong for rain,
First day of school,
A first small pinecone,
No moment of Zen.
Taller but all alone.
A tear of a teen,
A mark from a dog.
A friend is mean.
A morning with fog.
A special first date.
A bird makes nest.
A car bought late,
The leave shade best.
Diploma in hand,
Thick bark added to,
Collage is a new land.
Live is what she will do.

Poem Submitted: Sunday, January 31, 2010

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