A stately hemlock.... my western window does guard.
Its afternoon shadow marks the edge of the yard.
Its flat needles are green.
Its cones have a brown sheen.
The colors are the two favorites of this aging bard.
Its branches block much of the hot sun as a rule,
helping in summer to keep my small apartment cool.
By its natural way
less electric I pay;
the big hemlock's my own air-conditioning tool.
House sparrow, gray squirrel, and jay....in it do perch.
There too, some birds may conduct an insect search.
The tree keeps its needles all year
and helps bring to me needed cheer,
(more than would maple, elm, walnut, or birch) .
AND
Though hemlock poison has been known to make some people dead,
the thought does NOT make ME feel any moment of dread.
(Trees were friends in my past,
and that same feeling shall always last.)
(Nov.2006)
I wonder how I missed this beautiful poem! I just love it! I visualize the birds sitting in its branches and its leaves, shielding you from the direct rays of the sun! I have studied in my History class that Socrates was made to drink a cup of hemlock poison to put him to death with the charge of corrupting the youth of his times! A sure 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i believe i have learned, since submitting the poem, that the 'hemlock tree' is NOT the plant from which Socrates got his dose of poison; see Valsa's comment. bri :) i did some checking and it seems the source of the poison is uncertain. well, it WAS centuries ago! !