My Bones Under Trees With Very Deep Roots

My Bones Under Trees With Very Deep Roots Life flown past is a broken pane of glass, My joys were coffee dregs to be tossed, My victories were not gold but mere brass, And my awesome tales enlarged and embossed; Yet earth gave me of its wondrous fruits, All memories, in trees with very deep roots! My dances were all on beds of hot stones, None were happy scenes in majestic dreams, I relished eating empty ice cream cones, As I crawled along barn splintered beams; Fleeing owls screeched out their hoots, Racing into tall trees with very deep roots! I begged for sweet roasted bread of life, I took so much more than ever I gave, My cuts were slashes from a dull knife, And soon I shall sleep in an unknown grave; Where dirt will fill my sadly torn boots, My bones under trees with very deep roots! Robert J. Lindley, 2-14-2016