The Tree

My earth bound roots support my thrust into the sky;
There I stood majestic til the forester came by.
His arm with lethal weapon brought me crashing down,
To cut me up and shape me for planks to grace the town
This might of forest beauty now holds their garden beds,
My spirit resting quietly, where human footfalls tread.
Lovers locked together upon my smoother boards,
neath silver moon their love will soon be my one reward.


Photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash


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M.J. Gibbs
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