Leaflet
One hundred ten from acorn cup
my trunk, once slender, up and up
advanced to tickle sun and moon:
I versify. Life's afternoon
slips into eventide to sup
beside the golden buttercup, -
among the joyous saplings strewn
no longer hidden, bounty, boon.
From sunrise smile with dewdropp pearls
whose tears deck leaves as each uncurls,
from breath by photosynthesis
to death without a goodbye kiss,
from sapling which warm zephyr twirls
to gnarled old wood with outgrowth burls,
on how I live, on that and this,
my roots reflect before abyss
recycling swallows branch and twig.
I realize life's whirligig
spins rings concentric marking time
to final season's reasoned climb,
from shoot to trunk and branches big
where grunting pigs for truffles dig,
plays panorama pantomime
from small to tall productive prime.
Although deep rooted, tree to tree
transmits, receives, all share lore we
from long lost Ents once learned before
our quintessential none ignore
fixed time and place as by decree
we walked no longer. By degree
our waiting, shepherd like, restore
to earth a balance more and more
contested by Man's needless squander
from here unto the wild blue yonder -
None urban grey smog clogs dismiss
as harmless. Men must reminisce:
as chickens home to roost will wander
humanity - no time to ponder -
clima[c]tic tipping point does miss,
adieu to joy, adieu to bliss.
One hundred years and ten I oak
through summer sun and winter cloak
bore witness to the seasons' change,
to human intercourse, exchange,
from hoarfrost leaflessness to soak
when purple, yellow, crocus poke
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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