Under the Oaks

The oaks may have been "massive" only as their size was relative to my own, but they did seem to be towering, dominating, clustered there at the foot of the bluffs.

But the shade was mossy. I am positive of that.

Where the memory may be playing tricks ... it was a long time ago, you know ... is that the young trees I remember may not have been oaks at all. They could well have been hickory, or even maple.

Still, I like to think of them as "understudies," waiting for their turn in the spotlight ... in the sun.

I suppose there is some deeper lesson to be taken from this. Perhaps I had some application to humans in mind when I wrote the poem ... or it might just have been a little piece about trees.

Oh, and the illustration? It's a digital photograph I snapped because the leaves reminded me of a painting by Georgia O'Keeffe.

The poem:

UNDER THE OAKS

I really admire

the persistence

of those small

trees struggling

in the mossy shade

of massive oaks,

understudies

learning their

lines, patiently

waiting their

turn to take

the stage, too.

© 2001

(originally published in Capper's)

***

Today's word: persistence

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Thank you for stopping by, Michelle ... and for adding dimension to this entry with your observation of nature ... and your own insight. My apologies for being so late in responding.