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Jon Tobias
Poems
Jul 2013
I Think of the Tree
My little brother cuts himself
And I wonder about the scars
Imagine that they are more like
the lines inside the trunk of a fallen tree
An indication of how long he has lived
or how fast he grew
and time is a funny thing now
Because it is easy to forget how old he is
because of how old he looks
and on the inside
who knows
I just think of counting rings
on a fallen tree stump
like a warped record
after the day grows quiet
if I placed a needle to the wood
What song would it play?
Written by
Jon Tobias
San Diego
(San Diego)
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