Image courtesy of Leanne Cole Photography

They planted Tree the year she bore baby Jim;

Now when they see it, they think of him –

His quiet ways, his shy boyhood smile,

His fresh-scrubbed face when he walked down the aisle.

Tree has survived the worst of the past;

Lightning’s wild strikes, tornado’s fierce blasts.

Now Jim is gone, his sacrifice through;

Tree lost its soul when they got the news.

Twisted and gaunt, it stands on the hill

Waiting for Jim; it is waiting there still…

4 comments on “Waiting

  1. Leanne Cole says:

    That is a beautiful poem, brought tears to my eyes. I will have to show it to my daughter who also writes poems. Thank you for letting me see it.

  2. Nature is what digs us out of our deepest holes. Somehow humans don’t always perform the trick. Strange but true.

    Have you read “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle” ? Mute boy, dog, trees and family intrigue. Your poem speaks to its themes.

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