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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1987409
Helping a tree survive.
I went to save a dogwood tree
beyond a waterfall.
A polar vortex from the north
bestowed an April call.

I scaled a lot of limestone ledge
to reach the sloping field.
Verdant surround her bailiwick--
O Mother Nature’s yield!

Yet with the cold the little tree
was bowed as if ax-scarred;
brass gadget is the Arctic chill--
for limber wood it’s hard.

I reached the sight and found high weeds
and grass unevenly.
I stomped and pulled to low the land--
a lawnmower was me.

Beyond gray rocks not far away
were cattails in a glade.
I bundled them with forest vine--
a tiki torch I made.

Now after years the sun beams bright--
cerulean the sky.
The warmth allowed the tree to rise
and now that tree stands high.


24 Lines [Rhythm: 8-6-8-6]
Writer’s Cramp
April 19, 2014

Requirements:
--dogwood
--brass gadget
--lawnmower
--tiki torch
--cerulean

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