the hermit woke early
in his shire forest home
out the door
padding his feet
to the clearing
to the acorn he planted

a tree hugger
in his inner core
saw
the sprouting twig
with unfolding light green
baby leaves
his chest bursting buttons

for many years
the same morning jog
now the sapling a sturdy oak tree
hugged
as the sun crested the forest horizon

he saw the buds of spring
the bell-like leaves of july
the acorns of autumn
turn yellow orange and red
and pile the ground

he saw the naked gray of winter
but looking up spotted some old brown leaves
dry and dead that managed to cling on
through the whipping winter gusts

he put it in his head
to climb the tree
and pick the ugly things off

but they were high and reaching for
a dead crinkly leaf
lost his grip
and fell to his death

his body decomposing under the tree
weeks passed to spring
the oak buds pushed
the old stragglers

drifting down to litter his corpse







4.0 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson