Trees endure, and during their life and after their death, bring life back to many. 
As a steady stream of autumn rain descends from the sky, 
A crashing sound suddenly permeates the stillness of the early evening air. 
A grand senior tree has fallen. 
Not just any tree, but one with special meaning to a father and son. 
On a sloping hill, reaching toward the heavens, stood this old tree, 
On a lot, nestled among other lots with similar trees. 
In this special tree, stood a wooden house, replete with a ten foot ladder, 
Tenderly crafted by the hands of a devoted father, 
As a gift to his son, 
Admired by others for the joy and comfort it brings to the beloved. 
Over the long passages of time and through many seasons, 
the house started to crumble, 
like fallen pieces of an erected house of dominoes. 
No longer maintained, this play area of pretend was abandoned. 
Somehow, unbeknownst to neighbors, the father’s life had also fallen and crumbled at a tender young age. 

Now, mixed in with the fallen timbers, were the boards of the playhouse,
Cut and split as firewood by neighbors.
With fiery hearths aglow, 
Families bathe in warm comfort. 
With autumn leaves ablaze, 
Chimney smoke arises, 
Stored carbon life releases back into the heavens. 
The soul of a father awaits there, 
Whose own time with the trees was cut way too short.   
The son also vanishes over time, 
somehow fleetingly moved on with his life, 
perhaps to someday build a sylvan palace for his own offspring. 
 

D W Orr

Environmentalist, Weimaraner/Dachshund Companion, Photographer, and Poet-Provocateur

Harford County, Maryland,

Here, where it all began, 250 years ago, in the USA

December 27, 2019

Battlefield Farmhouse
A Stately Tree