PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

as I stray from the path of the norm

I deviate from high expectations to counteract the

oncoming storm

yet, not one solitary soul mentions the silence of The

once Whispering Oak

like its passed existence from all local minds must somehow

be cloaked

my conscience screams for fair treatment of such sweet and

simple beauty

surely the loving and remembrance of something or someone

should be considered a pleasure not a duty

but who really cares other than frequent shade seekers now

long denied the shelter of her lovely breezy branches

when Mr. Wilkes looks out across his massive property to that

lonely stretch of hot, empty land I bet he sometimes blanches

and wonders at the magnitude of just what he's done

does he miss that shady old oak nearly as much as he

despises the sweltering sun

just who had the authority to make him chop down that piece

of his beloved childhood

to some it was like family even if others only seen it as a lifeless

stump of wood

I still sometimes cry when I run to the field where now stands not

even a twig

how could anyone let him kill something more gently

awesome as she was big

if I were a politician and could get my way

why, I would personally declare May 14th as Whispering

Oak Day

now, as I stand silently alone

where my beloved friend once beside me stood so

proud

I must force myself not to dwell on what they've done

and what Mr. Wilkes has allowed

I know now that I am in no even remote way to blame

but the guilt I feel I can never be full rid of nor

ever hope to better explain...........

(written July 11, 1992 pm)