The Tree
Leaves of silk,
Grows afield,
Home to the stray,
her flowers bloom in May,
Her limbs stand tall,
She looks over them all,
Home to the chirping of spring chatter,
Throw a rock at it, and birds will scatter,
Rough never weaker,
Tears fall upon her leaves of silk,
Watering the base,
The foundation which she was born upon,
Grows deep within our nations soil,
Under the summer heat she boils,
Tree of life,
Wife to the ground,
Daughter of life.
My tree,
My home,
The tree I grew.
-Elise A. Mills
Coppywright 2015
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