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.
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”