Family Tree
The Family Tree
I come from a family of trees
rooted in tradition
morality
prejudice
and pride.
We’ve been up and down
through death and divorce
rum and religion.
Father died young
he was a willow
and a part of me died with him.
But now,
I sit in the shade
of an Oak tree
Mother Oak
who spreads her branches
to shelter us from the world.
Without bending
she’s weathered many storms.
She knows me,
for I am her.
The acorn of her soul.
Tony Sexton
5 thoughts on "Family Tree"
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You are hereby elected leader of all the best tree-huggers in the world with the line “The acorn of her soul”. I would hope also to be able to say I come from a family of trees.
That first line is killer! Lovely poem throughout and great end!
Great poem!
I love it, too, especially the way it culminates in that acorn.
“Father…was a willow” nice line – good poem.