One Tree in the Woods « Street Sights

By William K. Harter

Hello, tree! Walking back from my meals to my room

And returning from work each day, I look your way.

Passing through the gate, I glance left and there you are.

You aren’t there by the fireplug—a building hides you.

Also, by the mailbox, you’re hidden again.

But on the rest of my walk, there you are in view.

I first realized that you were there last summer—

You’re the tallest tree in that wooded area.

I wondered, I could not tell, were you evergreen

Or would I have to look soon upon branches bare?

And maybe wonder what color autumn would bring?

I must admit—how crippled, deformed, I see you—

So Lop-sided, all your branches on your South side

Until almost the top, then your crown becomes full,

And so I wonder what caused all this imperfection.

Was it the wind, a forest fire, some crippling disease?

I wonder what story, what advise you’d give me.

You remind me of myself, too imperfect,

As I walk this dark world of sin, hate, rebellion—

I see myself like you, lopsided, faulty views,

Struggling to go forward, crowded out by others,

Yet, like you, evergreen, always pushing onward,

Ever realizing we must strive to improve.

One Tree in the Woods