LONE TREE (by Elisabeth Douglas)

Why am I here?

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.

I am strong.
I am old.
I am alone.