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A Photo
Folder:
closet boxes 2002 The tree sways lightly
before my window
not a willow-
nor a spruse-
but a maple-red leaves like blood
contrasing the predominant
greens and yellows
of early autumn
that surround in every way.
I take the photo
and freeze the moment
lock it in time,
and with one more glance
move on and forget.
Three weeks pass
and I skim the pictures
and come to rest-
silently on the maple,
and the headstone beneath
which is clearly inscribed.
"Here lies a man
who truely fought to be free
who for a love of his counmtry
made his symbol this tree."
I stand for a moment
in awe that I didn't notice
a message so clear.
hmmm again an impressive and sweetly done poem with good theme.. like it sure..its good one
ok one: i think your love affair with that tree outside your window has gone too far
two: "Here lies a man
who truely fought to be free
who for a love of his counmtry
made his symbol this tree."
that bits amazing, but its not under the tree...is it?
and three: the poems fine and i miss you
ash
Much Love
Ashley