XCI

Don November 11th, 2009

XCI Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.” 

            It was an absolutely perfect spruce, so well hidden in the mountains that it was safe from ending life as somebody’s Christmas tree.

 

 The Message 

The standing tree was all

The meadow had to say.

It was not so very tall.

The wind could barely sway

It, pointing to the sky.

But you could hear it sigh

For something far away.

The standing tree was all

The meadow had to say.

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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