In this toy littered Garden I tend to
scan the background. Long moments
spent staring at the Evergreens
as they bend and bow in the wind.
Sometimes when the Garden is not
enough for tired little minds I watch
The seagulls dart towards the earth
before gliding over fence and frames.
Today I took note of the Olive tree that
stands just a little from my smoking seat.
There in silent glory it waited. on its fragile
branches tiny green rock hard unformed
olives clung. And for all of thirty seconds
I considered ringing him, a way to break
the year long silence, A reminder of his
parting gift. Being the man I am I closed
the door on tree and thought and
awarded myself a self pitying sigh.
Not Long Left
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-olive-tree-has-olives-father/
