My Poetry (c) 2k-RondaLee Tree Eternal Softly the wind blows, yet hard, bellowing under her branches. The tree recalls leaves of fallen past, yet had they turned, were they yellow or green? She has trouble with her vision. She has lived forever, but is unable to count her own rings, refusing to expose herself to the end. She weeps, though she is not a willow, at least she doesn't think she is. Acorns seem familiar, but maybe that was her neighbor, so many trees have lived within her forest. The tree imagines being a flower, tulip buds occupy her mind, tulip buds with the scent of pine. She is dressed in layers of weather and years, her skin is dry and brittle, the greens of yesterdays, create polka-dots with yellow. "How old am I?" wonders the tree, as she tries to remember how she came to be. She stares at her roots, she notices the ground is growing thin. She flails her limbs in an attempt to replenish the ground. She watches her leaves scatter, they blow far from her trunk. She wonders if they miss her protection, she wonders if they carried seed. A rabbit hops in, he sniffs at the fallen green, but prances away without a care, giving no notice to the tree. She cries in the wind, her branches remain steady as snow blows through her massive structure. She feels mighty and strong, she feels old, yet young, she feels love shall never come. She stands alone, as she has for years, giving life to all that surrounds her. If only she knew, that her strength, her will, and her life, had been breathing life into the world, and ensuring our eternity. Next  Or, Back to or visit