The Tree Will Be Reminded
The crystal clear skin
That exudes a peeling moon
To a half-crescent smile
Drowned when your waters
Emanated underneath the tree
Where you petrify with every
Abrupt departure, without notes,
Without gifts of flesh nor syrup-kisses,
The tree stood, chaste and pure, though
Decrepit for in the time of your furlough,
There’d be no one the tree’d let
Him touch his trunk, his branches,
His dead twigs and austere leaves
-
The rain had touched his porcelain wrinkles,
He felt it coldly upon his skin that
Wraps him in a mortal flame of summers
And winters; The grass pleads underneath
His roots tethered to the Earth
To remind him of the flustered world
That he breathes in, and so with crude words-
From damsels to old men and children,
He listen passionately, but not take it
To his viscera of rippled age,
The tree stood there, idle, stonily,
[...] Read more
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Added by Poetry Lover
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