poetry critical

online poetry workshop



the secret life of trees
topop

i wanted new trees outside my window,
 1
for the ones i had now were old, decrepit,
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backs arching, aching-
 3
wanting their last fall -
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to leave the earth in a crescendo of brilliant colors,
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die in the winter when it was cold, icy,
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not feel the pain - roots detach painlessly from the ground - souls free.
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it was clear, from their bark, they were very wise (very),
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like old wise men's wrinkles - you could sense it,
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sitting so high, silent, whispering only to the wind,
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putting on their annual show, in beautiful synchronization -
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with no rehearsal.
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so humble they stood as i told this to them,
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swaying when they took a minute to think,
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so i felt bad, and told them they could stay
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as long as they wanted,
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as long as they continued to stay quiet,
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and stay open for birds who stay there, late at night.
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28 Feb 07

Rated 9 (9) by 1 users.
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Comments:

talk about poetic! this is grand! near perfect. near always poems about trees are bad and overdone, but this one isn't. Good work indeed. 9/10
 — Henry

henry is a mind manipulator. this poem is overdone. brevity would help.
 — unknown

my question is why would you want new trees when you have such 'wise old epic' trees that seem to lend such internal wisdom and sense of grandeur?
 — Mongrol

Mongrol, the point is that by the end of the poem i realize that i want them.
 — topop

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