Old Wood Poem by Phil Soar
Old Wood
I watched it float by as I stood by the stream
A piece of old wood, from an unsightly tree
A yearly performer, now broken and torn,
Its branches were bare, and the bark very worn
But deep in the grass by the side of that flow
A seed left for years, was beginning to grow
A rising young upstart, just searching for light
To replace its forefather, and continue that sight
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4/30/2024 8:58:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
