The Tree Stood…
(Spokane, 26/8/1971)
The tree stood.
It just stood, against the sky,
Roots wrapped round the soil and the rocks,
An incongruity, disfiguring the face of the earth.
A silent rebellion.
A protest against Big G.
Big G.
The bow-me-down,
Bend-me-down,
Beat-me-down,
Lay-me-down,
Hold-me-down,
Fumed.
And the silent, unmoved, gleeful tree
Just
Stood.
"Big G". could be God, but it isn't. It's gravity, the omnipresent force. It had suddenly struck me how wonderful trees are. They take on gravity, deny it, and don't brag.
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