LONE TREE (by Elisabeth Douglas)
Why am I here?
Alone.
Distorted by storms;
blossoms destroyed;
every shoot damaged.
Why am I here alone?
No trees surround me.
No protection from destruction.
Nothing to break that raging wind from the sea
denuding me of leaves,
exposing precious roots.
Alone, I am strong and old.
Bowed and bent, I fight to live;
I fight to stay alive.
Alone.
I am strong.
I am old.
I am alone.