The Tree and Me by Laureen Summers

on

|

views

and

comments

Yesterday I watched branches 
Being severed from an old, majestic tree 
in my neighbor’s yard
Its roots screaming across
A small, almost well-manicured lawn. 

What did that tree say to the surrounding bushes? 
Wanting them to understand that imperfections 
do not define a tree (still) standing tall? 

That body…my body 
Patterns of speech only understood 
when someone is listening, 
uncoordinated movements  
as arms and legs try desperately 
to stay healthy. 

I imagined the tree wrestling 
as it welcomed missing limbs – parts 
that once touched the sky… 
confident in its depths of passion. 

At 75, I think have grown old,  
Yet, not unlike that tree, I yearn 
for renewed life; enriched by my 
differences, unapologetic for what 
I can no longer do. 

I am determined to flourish – 
Strong in my desire to stand tall 
Safe as I rest in the arms 
of the ones I love.  

Laureen  Summers has been writing poetry since the 1970s.  Her chapbook, Contender of Chaos, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2020.  A woman with cerebral palsy, she grew up in New York and Puerto Rico. In the 1970s, following a move to Washington, DC, she joined “Mass Transit,” a poetry group in Washington, DC.  She is currently a member of “Writing a Village,” a writing workshop in Takoma Park, MD.  In addition to writing poetry, she is a weaver of wall hangings and works as Project Director of Entry Point!, a program for undergraduates and graduates with disabilities majoring in STEM fields, sponsored by the American Association for the Advancement of Science in Washington, DC.  Laureen is married to Earl Shoop, whom she met at “Mass Transit.”  They live in Silver Spring, MD and have one daughter and two grandchildren. 

Image: “Twisted Tree” by Alan McGregor under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 license.

Share this
Tags

Must-read

Two Poems by Rebecca Dietrich

New Jersey is My Home Home is where I feel sand between my toes And smell freshly made boardwalk funnel cake Sandcastles are washed away by the...

A Poem by Matthew Ratz

But Nothing Is How does one measureenough-ness? Existingas the sum ofallone would ever need?I can littleascertainfor myself if even Isuffice It is a feelingintangible as etheronly...

Two Poems by Kimberly Ray

WHERE HAVE ALL THE PEOPLE GONE? Another December,Another end of the roadAs I look around and wonder,Where have all the people gone? Tucked in tighter to...
spot_img

Recent articles

More like this

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here