The Tree In The Meadow

The great oak stands magnificently alone in  
the meadow, far from the nexus forest. Seasons 
have passed for the secular oak as decades  have
flourished into several centuries, year after year
the unkind and bitterly cold winters greet the
oak as its only friend, standing alone, where 
nary a beast cometh to perch upon its solitary 
boney limbs that stretch to the vast heavenly
sky.
            The last leaf falls effortlessly
            into the wind leaving behind 
            one final tainted memory of
            summer's past.

Each leaf signifying a moment that expired
grief. One bone-chilling December morn, a
farmer with his gelded ax dissevers the great 
oak tree of its loneliness. 


- John Hardesty