Sapling
The day we first met
You were a sapling in the undergrowth.
Not more than a foot tall
I took a shovel and dug you out of the earth.
Placing you in a sack
I drove home and planted you outback.
Withered and yellowed
I wondered about my transgression
I watered your roots, mulched and sheltered.
One day I noticed
New growth.
Soft, spruce green.
I continued my diligence,
I push my saplings on the swing
Wondering about the day
Theirs too may swing from your branches.
4 thoughts on "Sapling"
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Nice rhythm
(I was not so diligent. Rue not watering my spruce sapling after transplanting it. It looks withered and brown.) Love the twist at the end
“I push my saplings on the swing”….. sweet line….
Saw my father do this over and over until he had a grove of them. I loved your diligence and persistence with both saplings.