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Second blog -- answers to an ocean of prompts |
Prompt: Trees can live for a particularly long time, even longer than humans. Describe what a tree might think upon watching a human grow up all the way from infancy to old age. ----- Abide with me, as you pass by, while I cry, after I’ve seen that damn Jenny Green change from tiny tot to brat, to young vixen, then to this old hag with the crooked hat. Through all that, without throwing a glance, perchance to my whereabouts, now, she has asked the tree man to cut me down, so they can dig for a pool, and wouldn’t it be cool to sip iced tea with her bridge club smarties at pool parties…without any regard to birds’ nests’ and me, or as a guard, when I took her son in my arms away from all harm and charmed him with tales my leaves spun when a wind gust passed through. I feel betrayed and dismayed, with my fate sealed and tossed aside, and there’s no place to hide, except when she steps close to me, I plan to drop a branch on her head without strife and gain a chance to life. If it’s her or me, this is gotta be. So I answer the prompt with a silly on–the-spot prose-poem today, but since April is poetry month, I feel okay about it. One of our poetry prompts coming up on April 21 in "Dew Drop Inn" ![]() ![]() |