Photo by Dawid Łabno on Unsplash

I walked to the park with my puppy. Came by a tree. And the following words and I met…

Sunday, August 2, 2020

A tree I am.

Season after season,

Leafing for a reason.

Branching when I grow.

Redoing what’s done.

Standing tall.

By wind I may fall.

Then regrow for you all.

Breathe as I crawl.

Through dirt where with all.

In spring showing my autumn.

For summer’s brought him.

In winter I’m tight.

Skinny my appetite.

So cold but I grow.

It’s home for roots I hold.

Spreading for my greens to glow.

-Budd

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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