Planting the seed for a Poet Tree

A dying breed, fading green

Like a grass stain on jeans overcome by a washing machine

Poet Tree blossoms, no forest to join (SAD!)

“Poet Tree, do you think I should rhyme join with coin?” (Nah)

I think I concur. Next line. Sit back. Ponder.

Ponder. Wander. Launder. Wronged – her.

Hmmm…

Concentration, what little I have

Interrupted by a god damn lumberjack

When I saw his saw, he saw me see his saw and grinned

“Say goodbye to your little friend.”

Hundreds more began to appear

On the horizon, and in one step were here

My Poet Tree…disappeared 😦

And then, a man put his hand on my shoulder and said:

“Son, it’s time you get yourself a career”