“Tangled Oaks”

“Tangled Oaks” A Mort Laitner Poem

The oak grips the ground as if it fears the wind.

Thousands of roots tear into the soil anchoring to jagged stones.

The oak remembers hurricanes by their year and by their name.

As a thousand roots sip sandy soil soup, knowing this

meal guarantees growth of a quarter inch a year.

The old oak now weighs well over two tons;

its branches are proudly dressed in Spanish moss.

But the roots still remember the taste of drought.

The moss recalls the smell of fire and the taste of old flames.

As the moss sways to the music of the air,

the old oak has tangled thoughts of a life well lived.

What the readers are saying:

Proud to report that The South Florida Writers Association’s The Authors Voice has published “Tangled Oaks” in its May edition—Thanks Editor Teresa Bendara.

Mort,
I love your poems. 
You try to express some interesting concepts.
Try this one about the oldest Cypress tree in the world that was burned down about five years ago by a junkie.
It was 3500 years old, the oldest Cypress tree, the oldest tree East of the Mississippi and other things.
Am a retired Arborist and had wanted to see it all my life. 
I was so excited when I finally stood next to its 17 thick trunk.
And then it burned down a month later.
I hope that I did not curse it.—Will
Beautiful Mort! Thx. You are a gem.—Eva
That was great!—Dawn

Still tangled in income taxes for one more day!

All the best,—Joel

Lovely—Gina

Very fine Mort—Ricki

Thanks. The roots of the poem are deep. No pun intended.—Travis

Lovely.—Toby

 

Share
April 17, 2017