A life full of secrets
Stories to tell
Saw wars
And shootings
Now broken
And laying
Listless on
The ground
Broken from age
Stories weighed
Upon solid roots
That still stand
Strong and I see
A part of it
Looks like he
Is looking at me
Holding up what
Looks like a
Hand which
Is forming the
Motion of hello
The dead that
Lies beneath it
Is calling to my soul
I step closer
Not wanting to
Injure more than
What it has suffered
I bend down and
Listen very quietly
And the brown leaves
Rustling in the wind
Tell me stories
From years gone by
I pick up a branch
With leaves still 
Attached and I carefully
Place it into my hands
Holding it gently
Letting it know I still care.
Terry Shepherd
04/19/2013
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Who I am 
Thank you, Terry, for writing like you do!
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thank you Debbie for reading my post. the photo of the tree trunk is one that I took and it was chosen to be published in a book years ago. I thought it was a strange looking tree trunk
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Excellent.
Love your background of the blog, & loved this photo too.
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thank you so much. I actually photo snapped that trunk and then played around with it some and entered it in a contest. It is now in some book years ago
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Terry, this is very dark … and sad, it hurts me to read it … *smile
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I actually saw this dead tree on the way home yesterday. It had a branch that stuck up and it looked like it was waving to me. I thought about all it had been witness to before it tumbled to the ground, and hence, this poem
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Fantastic work 🙂
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thanks!!!!
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