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Saturday, June 9, 2012

My Tree

When I was five I planted a tree
  We named that tree after me.
It grew tall, it grew free
  Limbs as high as I could see.

Then one day my family split
  I moved away to a life of shit
No more shade in which to sit
  I missed that tree quite a bit.

As years passed I would go
  Back to the place I used to know
Fifty miles to and fro
 Just to see my tall oak grow

Even though he shares my name
  The tree and I are not the same
He can't play life's crazy game
  He's never felt the sting of shame.

He has never been cut down
  Never worn a sullen frown
Been transplanted from his town
  Or taunted like a circus clown

The tree has never been rejected
  Felt the need to be protected
A monument that God's erected
  By only name are we connected

The years for him have been stress free
  That strapping oak named after me
From child's hand to mighty tree
   He has fulfilled his destiny
   
 I often wonder if when I die
  My old friend will ever know why
He bore the name of an average guy
  Whose own branches never touched the sky.





18 comments:

Unspoken said...

Like little boys and men grown up, even trees reach for the sky. Love the last line as a perfect finish.

Brian Miller said...

lots of feeling in these lines man...pretty cool the tree could reach it for you though you know...smiles....i like your poetry...

Anonymous said...

Nicely done Mr. O! Very nice. Sweet, but not too sappy. Me likey!

lotta joy said...

I enjoyed reading every word and easily gathered the feelings you intended.

On the other hand, you've never had woodpeckers.

Sorry. I had to.

Gloria Baker said...

Really nice!

Katherine said...

How special that little boy that sewed that seed, of that beautiful oak tree. I would say he was no ordinary boy/man!

the walking man said...

O seeing as you're a might bit shorter than your namesake tree I would think that when you stretch your limbs upward you in fact have reached the sky.

ReformingGeek said...

Life as a tree, so simple, so peaceful!

Nice job, Otin.

Pat said...

There is a lot of underlying meaning in this. I like the words you chose like "transplanted", "cut down", which can be used both in forestry and in humans. Very clever.

This actually hit home with me. I planted a maple tree when I was five. It was in our backyard. It grew very tall. When both my parents died and we sold the house, I gave the tree a big hug and cried so hard. I was 44 years old.

Unknown said...

Great poem. Love the story it told.

Betsy Brock said...

aw...that is such a sweet poem!

Lisa Regan said...

That is freaking awesome!

Claudya Martinez said...

That was really touching. Anyone who can write like that is not average.

darsden said...

Love it!

Unknown said...

I really love your blog posts... specially those on

http://tech-neno.blogspot.com

Mrs. M said...

Great poem!

CiCi said...

This is really great. Gives much insight into the life of a child from a broken family.

Jill from Killeny Glen said...

Wow Otin...that is profound. Good one.