Poem - Once I Built a House

Once, I built a house beneath a tree.
Its boughs softened the Summer heat.
Its leaves colored each Fall in gold.
I slept in it; sat in it; ate in it; how sweet.

Each season passed, and the tree grew,
Repeating each year its collage of color.
The tree seemed ageless; a comfort to me.
So, I built a house beneath that tree.

Through its windows I watched the tree
Work its colorful magic of green and gold.
“I’ll stay here,” I thought; Eden is mine.
But, late one afternoon, I got old.

The tree never noticed my changing.
It pressed on without care for my ageing.
“Hey!” I yelled, “what about me, thoughtless tree.”
But the tree heard me not; its leaves fell free.

And now I know my fate, and what to do.
I’ll feed you, tree; my elements will become you.
And then I’ll be here; young again, not old.
Part of your collage, your green and gold.
That’s it.


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