The Tree Poem by Cee Bea

The Tree



I am not the tree, but the fallow
and the harvest
maybe…a stone
in a rivers ebb

nor am I a flower
but I am a bit of pollen

maybe I am a grain
in golden fields
or a drop of rain amidst
a storm

I could be a scale
on a fish
or a feather on a bird

But I am not
the tree

Sunday, January 25, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: muse
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