A Tree

By Jeff O

Sun, 04 Jul 2010
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From the child’s palm, cupped
A tree grows, fully
Sized only miniature.

From its branches, bloom
Lights, twinkling stars,
Instead of fatted cherries.

“Children shouldn’t have trees”, exclaimed
A mother, cheery pink painted lips,
Without money she sleeps within
A tree surgeons spread hips.

Once removed
The child refuses to speak,
Nothing to freely do
But dream.

Certificate 15
Poem
Poetry
Miscellaneous