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.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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