Seed Atop a Hill
By Jack Colman
Seed Atop a Hill
This solitary tree amongst a roaring hillside
Slopes and valleys as far as sight can see
How did this come to be
Perhaps it was a lonely farmer
Whose callous hands and aching heart were tired
Tired of what life had thrown and taken
A seed planted atop a hill
A hope buried
A whisp of life. A beginning.
After he too would leave this mortal plane
there would be something.
A legacy. Something to remember his name.
The tree spoke to him in its infancy
And the farmer felt a little less alone.
He told stories on the edges of memory
The tree was an excellent listener
The best trees are.
With but three leaves to it’s growth the tree soon spoke to no one.
The sheep would not listen.
Mother Earth soon covered in black lines.
Twisting and turning along the mountainside.
Metal objects roar. Sometimes stopping.
Flashes of light from figures similar to the farmer.
The farmer.
The tree could not recollect
The tree rose and could watch the rise and fall of the sun.
It waited.
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