Scarred Tree

Birge-Bytes  "Growing older is not the problem; being perceived as old is!" I have weathered many
storms in life and let the scars heal in forgiveness. Mrs.B.

Scarred Trees

......”I think that I shall never see...a poem  lovely as a

tree....Poems are made by fools like me, But only 

         God can make a tree.” Joyce Kilmer 1886-1918

This poem was written over a hundred years ago and yet

most of the same trees she witnessed and loved are here

still.

PALMS  swaying softly in the warm breeze remind me of

summer and the beach.

FALL TREES of all hues will shed their bright “gowns”

for Winter wear; soft pure snow-gowns.

PINES standing tall and proud as they are selected very

carefully to warm a home dressed in tinsel and my

favorite “bubble lights” from my Grandma’s Xmas 

Tree that I used to fall asleep under;  safe from harm.

  Low  sprawling hanging branches from the “special Tree” I shared with my Dad who never thought my

questions were irrelevant or silly. We would climb up

and sit and talk about anything and everything and

he would listen to my dreams...I still go there in the

memories of my Dad and childhood.

As an adult I have encountered a different kind of tree...

not a “weeping willow” with soft Spanish Moss draped

on its branches but nevertheless....I “feel” the soft weep-

ing ..everytime i pass it by. I see the SCARS it bravely

tries to hide and regrow so maybe it can forget it was the

last place a teenager lived and died.

I’ve see too many.

Mrs.B.Birge 2011