"Poems are forever floating through my mind and if I don't catch them pin them to the page they are gone forever and what good is that?"
~ My journal (age 14)

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Reduced to stumps


It is when they shed their leaves
that you notice the brokenness of the trees
how well they hid their cracks
in the warm abundance of summer
but winter has laid bare their wounds
and it is too late now to bind them
they must be chopped down
lest they fall on their own
crushing all that is near
only when they are reduced to stumps
will they be stable and sturdy again

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