Wednesday, March 15, 2006

A Poem ā€“"The Switch"

Are you made of oak or ash,
cherry or mahogany?
What were you before he cut you down,
an implement now to punish me?

I often look at you and wonder,
how you looked when you were free?
Were you limb from lofty elder?
Or from a scrawny little tree?


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home