Old tree props the sky on its branches.
Almost Haiku: Three
Old tree props the sky on its branches.
Old tree props the sky on its branches.
Sometimes I wish I were a tree, To spread my deep roots underground, To know the land, to taste the soil, To grow tall and strong, to stand my ground Against storms, earthquakes, and landslides, And with my stateliness to keep at bay The crows and the woodcutter's ax. Yes, I wish I were a … Continue reading You, Me, and a Tree