An Oak Tree
As a child
He saw the perfect shape of an oak
spreading a symmetrical canopy
like a thick smoky spectre
about his brain
As a man
He saw the imperfection
of thickly knotted bark and branches
that screamed of weather scars
the deep lines of each season’s shift
One branch grew
another did not
One branch blossomed
another did not
One bird flew
from one branch to the other
just stumbled onto this website- amazing poem. i keep reading and rereading it.
i think i went to high school with you-if i did, i had no idea you were so talented! keep writing and posting!
-yasmin