A Tree as a Man

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I watch you,
as your days pass
with a deliberate creeping,
thick as treacle.

The brindle blush
of Autumn’s dawn,
glazed with hoary frost,
ruddy and thick,
alights upon your yielding spires.

Trembling consequence
settles upon your sylvan brow,
rattled and furrowed with the passing age.
Cast away your legacy
in knurled woody drops,
as thick as stars.

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7 thoughts on “A Tree as a Man

    1. Thanks. Seems the more I drink, the better me poetry gets. Some sort of inversely proportional ratio, like gravity I guess. Anyway, I was pretty pleased with that turn o’ phrase too. Thanks again.

      Like

    1. Thank you. I don’t either. I’m not trying to be facetious, I’m really not very knowledgeable. More of a, I know what I like, kind of person. Thank you again for your kind comment 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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