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

This life is mine.

Published by Adam

Adam F. C. Fletcher helps organizations engage people more successfully. Contact him by calling (360) 489-9680 or emailing info@adamfletcher.net.

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