Friday, May 04, 2012

At the defense

My friend of all these years talks through history
Of thought he once found suspect and nonsense
But he has found the root of the conflict and how
The tree was pruned; how the prevailing winds have
Leaned the tree  hard against injustice of life

It is the lonely leaf (not alone) that feels the
Whip of a hot summer breeze or the punch of hail
Those  on the windward side shrivel and tear
Those leeward grow wide with thick veins

The tree knows to sway and twist in balance
Through its studied response to the weather's

Without the tree, no leaf.  Without the leaf, no tree

Meanwhile, outside, a gentle spring rain falls on
The lush forest of the university, dripping life
On sparkling sidewalks slick with the future

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