The Tree

I pushed up through the earth's tough ground
I lifted my limbs and grew
Season after season I changed
and started to tower above all life

I grew healthy and strong
I survived all kinds of weather
I'm a tower of strength....until now

Now, I have trash covering my roots
It's growing more difficult to breathe
My leaves are withering
The spikes in my trunk are draining my life
The feet and hands are tearing away my bark

I was strength....
Now, I am but a dying tree

February 15, 1973

Copyright©1973 Sara
All Rights Reserved