Thursday, December 4, 2014

I Wood Be A Tree

If I Could

'A wee poem' inspired by events concerning a Poet-tree box recently
attached to, then removed from (by City decree), a tree in Old South

(second draft)

If I could I wood be a tree
Perhaps a giant red wood
Like General Sherman maybe.
I'd live 2,000 years, good chance even older
Head in the clouds, taller than fifty humans
Each standing atop another's shoulder.

If not an ancient red wood
Then something even rarer
Like a conifer-iduous or decidu-onifer.
How could I be two kinds of tree? How?
Be green year round, laden with chestnuts
With needles and leaves on every bough?

All I can say...
Oh, I'd find a way.

And I would welcome young climbers
Boys and girls on a swing
Friends seeking some shade
Pretty birds on the wing.

I'd rustle with the wind, always in tune
Sing with the sun and howl with the moon.

I would act as a signpost, point east and west
Be a home for wee birds and squirrels in a nest.
I would offer my arms for many a box,
Take a nail for a poem, hold a line for wet socks.

No one that I know will likely agree
But if I could I wood be a tree.


Link to I Wood be a Tree - first draft

Shilly Shketches (or drorings) by GH


Christine Montgomery said...

Yew are a poet.

Christine Montgomery said...

Yew are a poet.

G. Harrison said...

Few people pine for my poems but I think I'm getting better with sage.