In summer gath’ring they invoked the sky
Just throw of stones from where I sit, so bold
On pain of death, they risked both names and gold,
By pen for chance of freedom staked their lives;
Once bought with blood they’d plant some autumns nigh
A tree whose branches ever since could hold
Against the force of storms, growing so old
Though none can say now if its roots have died;
As children huddled ‘neath its shade cry out
Some grasp an ax, ready to strike, upend
Afraid these leaves once-green no longer breathe
While up on eager feet they march and shout
Unsure what perils may on them descend
Many yet hope to climb and still believe
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
In summer gath’ring they invoked the sky
Just throw of stones from where I sit, so bold
On pain of death, they risked both names and gold,
By pen for chance of freedom staked their lives;
Once bought with blood they’d plant some autumns nigh
A tree whose branches ever since could hold
Against the force of storms, growing so old
Though none can say now if its roots have died;
As children huddled ‘neath its shade cry out
Some grasp an ax, ready to strike, upend
Afraid these leaves once-green no longer breathe
While up on eager feet they march and shout
Unsure what perils may on them descend
Many yet hope to climb and still believe
