A demented poem that has been in my head, a poem where you(reader)decides what it means. |
-Doing What Must Be Done- by Keaton Foster (I’ve been wanting to write a poem where what is being done is not so clear, so that the readers can fill in their own reason why?” Enjoy! You see that tree The one upon that hill The one so very much alone It has a special name I once gave it to it It’s a name never spoken One only to be remembered Four decades ago I climbed that very hill Dug an impossibly deep hole And threw a sapling inside I said a prayer for it And I said one for myself When I was done When the tree was planted I turned my back on it I have never once returned Never once considered its fate Did it grow tall and strong Or did it die in the cold ground For the entire sum Of my impossibly hellish life I had no idea Nor did I ever want to know At least not until today I stayed away for forty plus years But something has changed Something has brought me back To this place, to this perspective And there it is, that tree The one planted by me The one up on the hill It has become quite tall It has become significantly round Its leafs, many are bright green Its branches, stretching out Its take up the whole hill Everywhere within twenty yards Is hidden under the shade it provides It’s an amazing spectacle of life And overcoming the odds For a while I stand in awe Observing every fine detail The shade, the colors, the structure Then, as always planned I make my way Across town and up the hill Once I am at its base I do as before But in complete opposite I take in the perspective of the tree On the hill, planted by me Wow such an amazing view Such a wondrous spectacle of life No wonder it survived No wonder it fought the odds I understand how it has grown I can see what it might have been reaching for When I’m done, when I’ve had enough I do what I came to do What I have always been sure I must The first swing of the axe is hard Damn near impossible But every swing after that gets easier Until finally, I am forced to yell timber Down it falls, down with everything It has ever stood for Since the day that I planted it As soon as I’m done another Not one seen to me in decades Comes running up and screams What the hell have you done? Easily I reply, what I had to… Doing What Must Be Done Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |