Poem: The Tree

Rooted in the earth,
Its roots as thick as my wrist,
The tree Tree001nevertheless
Rises gracefully above
Me.

Its truck is straight for many feet
As it thrusts itself above ground
Then spreads itself in green arches
High above.

A light breeze ripples through
Making the leaves shimmer and glisten
Scattering water droplets of recent rain
Down on me.

I stand there, neck craned and take it in,
This lovely majestic thing
That is much older than I
And likely to die after
Me.
–Cynthia Haggard writes short stories, novels and poetry.  During the day, she is a medical writer and has recently opened her own business.  For more on her creative writing, go to spunstories.  For more about her medical writing services, go to clarifyingconcepts.  (c) 2009. All rights reserved.

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