Old Grandmother Woman’s Trees

Old Grandmother woman is planting trees.

Trees she will not see grow to their fullest height.

Carefully, she nestles the fragile bleached green seedlings into the soft brown earth.

“Be strong little ones” she whispers.

She remembers the trees that used to grow here.



I always wrote (first poem at 6 years old). Tech writer by trade. I have a podcast The Storied Human: see my linktree — https://linktr.ee/StoriedHuman

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