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Two Trees
A tree stands in the forest,
gnarled roots overreaching
into the dark soil of the ground.
This tree is warped;
branches lie askew,
the trunk tilts weirdly,
its leaves are scattered dying.
Dark notches stain that trunk
and cracks line every branch.
Carvings line its body,
Old loves and old friends;
Times long gone.
Its visage cracks no smile or frown;
no human face remains there.
Another tree stands close by;
a tall proud oak, verdant.
Branches assert its power,
the trunk sits ramrod straight,
its leaves pulse in life.
No lost loves mar its trunk;
the bark remains untouched, pure.
That tree watched the beginning,
and now remains after the end -
always condemned to watch.
O! How much that tree cares!
But yet - that tree stands as it has,
and its roots encroach forward.
Its face seems to smile - almost.
A great attempt at imagery… a success nonetheless. Two trees. A lovely way to point out two extremes that perhaps stand in confrontation with each other. However, they may stand in utter admiration of each other instead, for they are nothing alike, yet stand side by side, one tainted and one pure.
On a personal note, this reminds me of familiar people standing beside each other.
You painted a great picture with this.
those trees need to duke it out. my money's on the gnarled one. its got the anger and piercing rage to knock that other wimpy tree to the other side of the forest.