Straight-striving, a white
oak sapling bends
(it pretends) willingly
to the lapping of grey-
hound gusts. It knows
the musts of a thin-
skin (if and when,
it can endure) will loosen
some with thickening. Then,
well, the strength comes
to laugh at always
in the passing wind.
Dec 4, 2010
Dec 4, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
Straight-striving, a white
oak sapling bends
(it pretends) willingly
to the lapping of grey-
hound gusts. It knows
the musts of a thin-
skin (if and when,
it can endure) will loosen
some with thickening. Then,
well, the strength comes
to laugh at always
in the passing wind.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
Request permission to use this poem