My Conversation With the Mighty Oak Tree


The day is crisp an clear.
A bit of a nip in the air.
Decided to steal a few hours.
Grabbed a chair to sit over there.

Found a spot under the old oak tree.
Shade under the whispering leaves.
Then I heard a low voice, I thought,
the wind just swirling around my knees.

I heard it again, loud and clear.
I spun around, no one is there.
It said Robert, I heard from the tree.
The tree is talking to me I swear.

I heard of your poem about me.
I liked the words you wrote.
I read of the things I lived through.
More to it though, please take note.

It's been touch and go, don't you know.
In the early days I was not as grand.
I was here when Lincoln was prez.
Cattle herds were grazing this land.

You know when the Alamo fell?
This land lost in a poker game.
My brothers were burning in the distance.
This land flooded snuffing the flames.

I even played a part in the civil war.
Union soldiers took over the square.
They rode past, horses stopped in my shade.
I didn't like it, Tidwell got them out of there.

You talked of Orville and the first flight.
Well, I saw men measuring around me.
A new railroad line coming through.
From south Florida to northern Tennessee.

I thought, uh oh this is it.
All this time I have stood.
But land was cheaper on the westside.
Ran there instead to a station in Kenwood.

I remember the idiot town council.
Wanted to put a useless road through here.
They were just lining their own pockets.
My owner fought and kept this land clear.

While history happened during my life.
I’ve weathered my own storms you know.
I have the cuts and bruises to prove it.
My biggest fear is still lightning though.

I like our talk we just had.
Come here anytime and sit with me.
I know your dog Bingo is buried here.
I now feel like I'm part of the family.

R. S. Morris

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This Poems Story

Wrote a poem earlier about the history an old oak tree has lived through..... this is the tree's story.