Poems, Personals, and Commentary

The Lonely Redwood

[At this time of year (late July, early August), the redwood tree next door
 is continuously dropping its cones on the ground.]

All day long
The redwood rains.

Its cones, they drop
On concrete,
Wood, and dirt,
On tiled roofs,
On weedy grass.

It is their task …
To reproduce,
To bear much fruit —

But, alas …
They’ll rarely come
To new green shoot.

The lonely redwood
Planted there,
In city, town,
In suburb brown,
Will boast a solitary crown.

No seed will sprout
On concrete, wood,
On tiled roofs,
But maybe dirt,
Or weedy grass.

Then soon is trampled
Underfoot —
No room for more.

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