Friday, July 27, 2007

Entry #12

by Herschel Cozine

They want to cut them down. The old trees near

The edge of town. Along the old county road.

I climbed them as a boy, shared them with birds,

And squirrels. Sat in their shade.

It was a better time.

But that was long ago. Today they’re old,

And sick. A threat, we’re told.

I smile at this. Not from amusement,

But from a sense of irony.

For most of those who sit in judgment

Are old as well. The mayor walks with help,

And has a shaking hand that makes his signature

A feeble, palsied image of a name.

I more suspect the trees stand in the way

Of progress. Such a useful word.

The trees, old though they are, stand firm.

Dying, to be sure. But with a dignity

That is, or should be envied by us all.

Children never climb them anymore,

And that is sad. Trees were meant to climb.

Still, there are those who seek their shade,

On sultry days. Including, if you will,

The very men who call to cut them down.

More irony.


SzélsőFa said...

I hear you.

Chris Eldin said...

Me too. Really liked this. Wish you had room to work in a specific tree that had personal significance. Hard to do in 250 words.

Anthony Rapino said...

very cool. Liked this one.

Anonymous said...

Very nice - great irony

Victor J. Banis

Victor Bravo Monchego, Jr said...

I liked this and the prose poem format works.

Beth said...

I'm not even a fan of poetry, but I liked this. Well done.

Unknown said...

This works really well. I find the story/poem deeply poignant. Nicely done.

AngelConradie said...

excellent, so true as well…

Anonymous said...

Well spoken.

Anonymous said...

I like this rumination on the old trees. They do have a lifespan, and that is sometimes hard to accept. It seems like they should go on and on.