Posted: October 1, 2019 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,


By David Allen

Woody’s been sitting there
for quite some time now.
Centuries have passed.
He’s rooted to a spot
at the edge of the woods,
where he observes the progress
and, sadly, the eventual regress
of the humans in the valley below.
“Why don’t they find their roots
and settle down?” he muses.
“They never stay long enough
to get into the sync of the living earth.”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s