Hacking, thrashing through
crunchy, hard reed-covered banks
I stand alone at the river’s edge
Currents whip past
My roots dig deep
into the loess underfoot
Waving to barges, speedboats
Days go past
Loose, long limbs
hold homes for fat fireflies
A lazy raccoon holds court
throwing fish bones all around
Settlers aim for me
considering whether to chop me down
They all wondered
if they could chop me down
Still I stand
150 years later not defeated
Tent caterpillars, pioneer axes, tornadoes
Be damned
I’m the Lone Tree
Standing taller than all
Friends long gone, family carried away
downstream
This life is mine.
Adam F.C. Fletcher 