I see the burned tree
Just there above the roots
Was it a lightning strike
Or a grass fire uncontrolled
That marked this tree
I can’t tell by looking
At the ground around
Or at other old trees
Below the winter breeze
As their living tops sway
Beneath the breathing sun
It's an old tree from its size
With a scar near its roots
Much like one I gathered
In my own young innocence
The scar long forgotten
By the tree’s tender tips
