Mick Zerr

Rookie - 102 Points (1944 / Aberdeen, SD)

The Cottonwood - Poem by Mick Zerr

Yes, She saw it all,
This beautiful lady so tall,
From the feathered Red-skinned folk
To giant oxen with a yoke.
…..And She saw it all.

My Mother, She was,
I say with a rustling pause.
Of many, I was one who floated from above
To grow and share her protecting love.

Travelers passing noted her charms,
Often taking refuge in her open arms,
Borrowing her firewood on a cold winter morn.
She gave it up to keep them warm.
…..And She saw it all.

Little did she ask,
But a drink from a flask,
Rustling a wavegoodbye,
With a morning tear in her eye,

Wagan Chan was her first name, they say.
Natives' words, depicting her restless way.
Sadly, she watched them leave, to never return.
Soon otherscame, some to plow, some to burn.
…..And She saw it all.

Mothergrew up in times so bad.
Water was scarce and often not had.
Of a family so large, she was the one
Who survived the longest under the sun.

Fires and critters made times tough,
But she came through, looking rough.
Others lived under her protecting hands,
Some from far and distant lands.
…..And She saw it all.

Mother was old, when my roots first came.
She sheltered me from wind and rain.
I sprouted fast, growing close by,
Always under her watchful eye..

Late in the summer of her ending year,
As if she knew her time was near,
She showered the land with silk so white
That little children all loved the sight.
…..And She saw it all.

The storm was strong, her death came fast
Lightning hit, the great Cottonwood fell at last.
The ground shook as her friends drew tears.
She lay dead, after two hundred years.

As She came to rest, all was quiet, and it made sense,
For when a tree falls in the forest, there is a time of total silence
When even the birds show their respect and appreciation.
The creatures all came, some winged, some furred, like a great forest nation.
…..And I saw it all.

Topic(s) of this poem: trees


Comments about The Cottonwood by Mick Zerr

  • Glen Kappy (1/14/2018 8:14:00 AM)


    Appreciating Cottonwoods as I do, I get why you’d write this ode, Mick. I attempted one years ago to the Cottonwoods that lined the narrow road through the small town of Corrales, NM nearby. I love the gnarled beauty of mature ones, and those who presided alongside that road appeared to me as wise elders. As I write I’m thinking I might attempt that poem again. Thanks! -Glen (Report) Reply

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  • (10/31/2007 8:47:00 PM)


    A charming poem, Mick. Original, too.

    Love, Fran xx
    (Report) Reply

  • (10/31/2007 8:46:00 PM)


    Beautiful and touching - an enjoyable read.

    Take care
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Poem Edited: Sunday, December 24, 2017


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