A Hidden, Secret Tree

A hidden, secret tree,
A product of the mud —
A brother to my weariness,
A kindred to my blood

Alone, and in the fog,
Sits waiting for the Spring:
The way that you and I must wait
For nigh on

Everything

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s