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Dead Tree in the Forest

Stark among the lush of youth

tall, unashamed

no leaves twirl downward

no fertile blanket of rot

to feed saplings

fresh with green sprigs.

Many seasons

they have tasted your nourishment.

Do they regard your wisdom

whispered in the mountain breeze?

Do they believe tales told of

life on the hill,

of cycles of torrents, droughts,

penetrating frosts and mountains

of drifted snow?

Do they devour the lore

falling among the leaves?

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Do they devour the lore

falling among the leaves?

I like your questions posed to your reader on this metaphoricaly written poem Vex, Just want to say hello to you and wonder where you flew off to? Hope all is well in your neck of the wooded forest.


Devour the lore falling with Autumn leaves...nice

I’m glad you like this work. I’ve not been on line much of late and not been inspired or creative. I’m not sure I understand what it is you want me to do with this poem. Who is Weirdelf?


author comment

like dead trees
but still seemingly alive
in forests
no more of trees
but concrete
they call it
cement and steel
ain't it?
that's all are we
you and me


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