I found this poem through #OctPoWriMo. It is a powerful story told through a florette.
A stooped old man, grizzled and worn
his body broken, his mind torn
only his eyes had signs of life
taunts and jests cut him like a knife, facing the scorn.
An ancient oak stands tall and proud
its limbs are strong, with leaves endowed
a symbol of strength, hope…glory
ageless, timeless, it tells a story. All have bowed.
The man looked up to that old tree
it took away insecurity
He felt it showed him some respect.
That old oak did the man protect, both could live free.
An ancient oak stood all alone
its leaves were gone, the winds had blown.
On winter’s eve, that old man died;
he found his peace. The old oak cried, last respect shown.
Rod E. Kok
October 3, 2018
Visit Rod’s page here