31 Jan 2011

MAKING MARKS.

I asked permission from the oak,
to carve my name on his proud side.
For years we stood in wind and rain,
watching grazers come and go,
and climbers grow from boy to man.
When my gnarled fingers met the bark,
I told him I was going home.
He knew I'd loved him all the while,
and he would never be alone.

1 comment:

  1. This is a good one too. I'm jumping on to follow.

    Kat

    ReplyDelete

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