Reader
The Tree.txt
poetry/The Tree.txt
The Tree
It was an old tree when I first saw it. It had old, rotten and
twisted branches and a half made tree-house high in its perches.
The tree had grown up long before my parents were born. It used have
a fence around it, but it had been destroyed years ago. It was an Oak Tree.
One day, after leaving my bed and spilling my breakfast cereal on
the chair, I looked at the tree. We were such good friends.
Deep within my thoughts, the tree touched my love
and we knew each other - understood each other.
The tree grew outside the front door, and when the sun
was low in the west, its shadows glowed with brilliance.
I sat under it at this time and silently conversed thought with the old tree.
I am an old man now. The tree is dead and gone. I have an Acorn
from the old tree. I will build a fence and plant the acorn inside it.
It will grow and replace the old tree. The old Oak Tree.