Old Mister

silent oak tree sentinel guards my yard
I call him Old Mister
he drops acorns that try to grow new oak trees
they land in a cinder piles, planting themselves
In a few weeks tiny oak leaves form.
If you gently pull them out of the cinders
You will see a tiny oak tree growing out of an acorn.
I pulled twenty of them one day and took them to Sunday School
Giving them to children who were almost as amazed as I was.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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