Tree Hugger

I did put the little Norway maple in the place it grows. I moved
It from where it had sprouted to the front, close by the stump
Its departed predecessor, once a lovely, noble tree, but,
In the end, a fragile hazard, as those maples tend to be.
I did not plant the hickory, which showed up here from who
Knows where, and not the eager walnut trees, nor any
Of the thriving oaks. The red buds all are native. They
Grow anywhere they choose to grow, and I am pleased with
All of them. I love a lush and shady yard, one which seems
Almost a forest. My wife, on the other hand, wants more
Space to grow her gardens. She detests the maples. They're
Invasive. She's against the walnuts, telling me that they put
Poison on the ground she wants to use, and also tons
Of messy nuts. The oaks can stay, well, most of them.
I nod my head, but do not act. I mean to save my trees.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2024-06-10 at 00:51

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
"I hear you but the trees say otherwise!" Blessings, Allen
2024-06-10