A World In a Tree
I look upon a tree in windowed box,
A summer lover planted in the grass,
Inside the tiny window vision locks
A living painting made of shimmering mass.
From on my chair out through transparent wall,
I stare at what appears more orb than tree;
No trunk in sight, this verdant crystal ball
Does tell a fortune set in marbled sea:
The wind! It roars through branched societies,
who vy for fickle glory, bending fate.
They spread their kingdoms, crushing enemies,
But in the end they're beaten home by hate.
For all that Wind -- Its name "Desired Fame--"
Can only for a moment sway the Frame.
Copyright © Robert Allen | Year Posted 2019
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