How I Became an Oak
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I stood as though reborn on mounded dirt which seemed so moist
it strangely could assuage the ache from my bowels howling
from so much hurt! Would ground then be my cure or a mirage?
Enticed, I deeply pressed my feet through the soil! They took root!
Then they fixed me to the spot! My ever-thickening trunk
served well to foil the plots of those who’d fell me. . . . they could not!
My limbs, though mighty branches, could not bend; Oh, how I fought
my transplantation, weathering storms God or man might send,
living so long in desolation! Self preservation
did this much for me: loved ones passed and I remained a tree.
Sept. 19, 2017
10 lines of 14 syllables each
Syllables checked with Howmanysyllables.com
For the Personification of Plant Contest of Kim Rodrigues
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017
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