POEM: Lonely Oak

lonesome oak on a hill

having outlived your peers

your progeny denied the light
by scythe and mower blade alike

it’s said you speak by pheromone
but no whiff is caught when alone
your words disperse unsmelt
lost across a manmade veldt

if it’s any consolation
you have our unflagging admiration
you’re the model of stately poise
to all the little girls and boys

who swing about your stout limbs

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