A Sign Post for Woulds That Now Are Was.
Trees lock history in the ring binders for all to read
What marvelous wonders and sorrows did they bear witness too, these mighty trees
A Sign Post For Woulds That Now Are Was.
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The huge, old maple tree stump
was cut rather short to allow some
electrical lines up above to pass by
without limbs growing there,
and then breaking communication.
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I climbed it to check
on the age of the tree,
it was easy, what was left
was just signpost high.
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Then I noticed new growth
just beginning to form,
as this old tree struggled
hard to live on,
and I grew philosophic,
as I looked at those rings
and guessed just what might
lie inside each layer formed.
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Comanche carved symbols on the innermost rings, aids to marking out trails to a tribes sustenance sought.
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The fourth and the fifth ring contain hatchett cuts,
blood stained where a lone pioneer amputated a finger while chopping this tree for a structure called home.
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Bullet holes mar many spots at the sixth near misses for soldiers who fought civil wars.
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A nail hole from maple syrup pails scars the eighth back when sap ran in pure amber gold.
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History lies buried around every layer in old hieroglyphics etched deeply by man.
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The name of a dog who was one's faithful friend is neatly hand carved in the tenth ring above while his old bones lie buried below.
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And not far beneath the new cover of bark is a heart with two names left incised, two lovers kissed there and he noted his joy from a love that was lost long ago.
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A canvas it stands for the next wood have beens near a shadowy forest with many more rings to surround what's to come,
scratched beneath curved perspectives left by all who someday
might come wandering by.
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© 2010 Matthew Frederick Blowers III