The Last Tree

It is the time of the year When he stands purely naked Somehow He lost his evergreen underwear The last tree Standing still Until the last kill by a chain saw Sliced down right to the core His seeds he did sow As he eagerly awaits the branches of his offsprings to grow In the middle of the night I hear him whispering I hear him talk Then he tried to walk Hindered by his own roots beneath his foot It is time to flee It is time to be free He is still standing as the last tree Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi