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The Hollow Tree

The hollow tree of a man,                                                                                                                           squirreling things away the best he can,                                                                                                                        to fill, this knotted hole the plan;                                                                                                                                  this oak an upward alluvial fan,                                                                                                                       withstanding the wind, deadpan,                                                                     
with all his leaves and full of little nuts                                                                                                                         but with one little crack, now it juts.                                                                                                                                       The gaping heartwood the wind, now cuts.                                                                                                                              The constant pecking of time cracks become ruts,                               
intruding unwanted things move in                                                                                                                                              Now full but no healing within,                                                                                                                                             becoming an ever widening den                                                           
                                                                                      
Slowly growing ,weathered and old,                                                                                                                               
the wind now moans, across the span
of an empty hole, that never shuts                                                                 
but unknown to the tree life does begin.                                         
The treasure he sought was already sunk,                                                       
and through the young sapling, this story is told                 MINUANETTA - Poetry Contest 2/10/2018

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Susan Gentry

Date: 4/29/2018 3:02:00 PM

Congratulations on your placement win. I enjoyed reading this. Well done. :)

John Beam
Date: 5/1/2018 5:49:00 PM

Thanks Susan and congratulations on your win. I hope you are doing well:)

Gregory Richard Barden

Date: 4/29/2018 2:39:00 PM

This is a wonderful poem, John, that I enjoyed very much in every aspect - fun story, great rhyme, nice flow, imaginative ... I had to put it at the bottom, however, as the two-line stanza is missing. I kept the contest open a while longer in hopes that you would correct it, (as it's clear you INTENDED to include it, as you have the rhyme reference of "sunk" in the last stanza), but had to eventually close the contest. I DID still include it as it was such a good poem and SO close. Congratulations on your placement, and thank you for entering my contest! :-)

John Beam
Date: 5/1/2018 5:42:00 PM

Thanks for placement and enjoyed contest, good idea.