Old Oaks
written by: Christine Piatek
Concentric circles invisible until
your demise, natural or by human hands
reveals age and perfect symmetry,
the roundness of infinity,
the plight of earth its people bequeath,
resilience of your sentient life.
Methuselah, Sherman, Vouves, so old
yet grace far corners, fields and forests still.
The tales you could tell.
All we need do is listen quietly.
Each wildfire threatens.
Wind, gale, drought, relentless deluge weaken.
A part of humanity is lost each time
your trunk reveals your years.
I am a retired public sector lawyer who has always enjoyed writing -- journalism, memoir, essays, and poetry. I have been writing poetry in earnest for over ten years. My inspiration comes from nature, life's daily experiences, and thinking about the problems of the world. I've had several poems published in an annual summer fiction and poetry edition of a regional newspaper.
Latest posts by Christine Piatek (see all)
- Old Oaks - October 7, 2025
- Flight - June 2, 2025
- Illusion of Time - March 1, 2025
