As a Sapling

April 15th 2024

Well, I had sat there counting the rings

that built the tree for quite some time,

my fingers following them, circling

around and around in a display of tan

and brown rippling across the surface.

Apart from the robin prancing about,

it was just the stump and I, there in the

place where the oaks once stood as tall

as the bright blue skies. And as I sat upon

the surface, we mourned the years we

had shared, now blown about and lost

in the chilled northern winds; for of

the twenty five rings that built the Old

Oak Tree, not a single one was spared.

Feel free to leave a comment below with your thoughts and reflections.