The Pecan Tree Poem

The Pecan Tree Poem

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There is a tree outside my window,
With branches strong and wide.
The tree is not inside my house,
Because trees... grow outside.

I look upon the branch's tips
I look among the leaves.
What I see doth trouble me,
It makes my heart weep... it grieves.

Green casings are popping open,
New pecans are bursting forth.
Knowing not their dismal fate
Or their scanty worth.

One will fall onto the ground
Where it will decay, so smelly.
One will find it's way into
A greedy rodent's belly.

Yet another pecan will drop and be
Picked up by a passerby,
Only to be painfully shelled
And cast into a pie!

O, Tree of Pecans,
Why do you bear your fruit?
How do you cope
And maintain your hope
When your offspring are crunched 'neath a boot?
~*~
Note: I wrote this silly poem during my
brief stay in Alabama. The accompanying picture is cartoonishly accurate of what I really saw right outside my window on the night this was written. A huge old Pecan tree, reaching out to greet me. When my window was open I could touch the branches. We lived on the second floor of an old apartment building that was surrounded by big beautiful old trees. I will never forget Mobile, Alabama. It was like a dream. I could write all day about it...

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