A Tree Story
A tree grown tall from summer’s grace
Stood stately, strong, alone
Amid the flora of the wald
Her bark was hard as stone
For years she stood unequalled in
Her beauty, strength, and style
Her roots pushed down, her arms stretched up
And made her Maker smile
Woodcutters came one fateful day
To say where she would plunge
And marked the cuts upon her bark
Her being to expunge
The first saw rakes could hardly break
The bark so thick and rough
She still stood tall without a shake
When to her core they struck
She who endured such cold and heat
And snow, wind, hail, and pests
Could not throw off these stubborn men
Who planned where she would rest
Denial seemed the tact to take
At first it worked quite well
But then she felt her weakened trunk
And swooned and swayed and fell
The crack clapped hard throughout the wald
When severed from her base
She tore through all her neighbor’s limbs
And slapped the earth in haste
The finest things she ever did
Was stand when storms blew hard
And sheltered birds in woodened arms
And spread her seeds afar
But next to these was when she fell
And made her grounded dent
She passed in peace without complaint
When down to earth she went
David Packer,
July, 2012