“Old Oak Tree” by Ginette Callaway
the old man
the only man
willing to hear them
the voices of time
the paper white birch
utters softly
a whispered lament
for the handsome
crisp skin
given freely
to history’s hands
the towering pine
sighs in its tops
for dropped
embryo needles
that fall upon ground
it can hardly
remember
the stout wrinkled maple
gives whimper
a plaintive dry cry
for the once virile
sugar sap
taken by too many
seasons of harvest
the ancient bull oak
gnarled and knotted
groans deeply
in pain
under strain
from the heavyset
ache of its age
the old man
the only man
versed in the language
of voices of time
Poesy plus Polemics 