The Middling Tree

By Richard Betts

This is my place the Middling Tree
But why are you the Middling Tree?
What makes you seem so strong and free?
Your time stood here has seen so much
As people pass and people touch
You offer them your kindly gaze
And shelter from the suns hot rays
A place to stand out of the breeze
A place to be, a place to see
What makes your life so grand, so fine
The Middling Tree is not just mine
And so it stands and simply waits
As Winter peers through Autumns gate
The leaves are curled and turning brown
And soon will drop to feed the ground
The tree will stand and gently weep
It will not die, it simply sleeps


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