So plant a tree for me,
When I am gone,
And cut it down while it is young:
Let urbanity crawl around it,
Let the pests and fights surround it.
Else leave it be, shriveled and weak,
To fend for itself.
And from a seed,
An amazing length is grown-
A wonderful height is shown.
The sprout in the soil
Is nothing, a magnet, a centrifuge
Of dirt and heat
Till at once it is something,
A being of age and shade.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
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