In front of our subdivision
facing a major road
rolling with drums of vechiles
marching hurriedly towards destinations
where little hands squirrel away fallen acorns
and rest on the voluminous roots
an old white oak tree salutes.
With a touch of lichen encrusted bark
the hundred year old tree speaks
of silence before the road ahead and the homes behind grew
a stillness felt deep in wise roots
patiently awaiting a serenity to sing again
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