The Notable Oak
Scarlet clouds skinny-dip
In the wealth of your limbs,
Highlighting your glorious
State of grace,
And I am your audience
Applauding unrehearsed magnificence;
Intensely poignant,
This simple display,
To intrigue and inspire
The likes of Kilmer.
“More,” I fiercely cry.
“More!”
Alas, the sun has done her duty
And she’s fled to western horizons,
Leaving me to mourn the sight
Of your moss-draped canopy
Wrestling with the sky
For consideration,
But oh, Live Oak,
You need not fear my memory.
I shall dream of you
As I slumber beneath your branches.
When the sun comes to visit again,
You’ll see me smile once more.
Copyright © Pamela Davison | Year Posted 2005
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