A BLIGHT

 

 

An ancient oak, larger than life,

          Added a new ring each year that I grew;

          its branches stretched

                    higher and wider than

                   my near-sighted eyes could see. 

 

Its summer canopy kept me cool.

Its fall acorns fed pigs and squirrels.

Its history lay hidden under

          thick layers of bark. 

 

Its roots spread onto the dirt road,

          as if it could travel, too,

          keeping our stories in its ring cycles.

 

Then standing without new leaves,

          with branches breaking,

 

Falling before me.

 

©cmheuer, 7/2023