Poetic Injustice


In lovely prose did Kilmer write

Impressed by an arbored delight

“I think that I shall never see,

A poem lovely as a tree.”


And in those days of poets past

The only way their words could last

Stained ink upon the wood-pressed sheaf

Paper hewn leaving homeless leaf


His words so true to his nature

But scrawled upon simple paper

How could he possibly foresee

That his beauty would fell the tree


In the boughs that held robin’s nest

A feathered friend can find no rest

Poems are made by fools, he said

But even he wanted his poems read


Fame presses on a greater need

Axe cleaves as wooded soul is freed

And I can see the irony

That “Only God can make a tree”


9 Responses to “Poetic Injustice”
  1. Jim Borden says:

    Perhaps today, Kilmer would only release such a poem in Kindle format 🙂

  2. beth says:

    beautiful, beautiful irony. I used to peel the bark off of the white birches in our yard when growing up and would write on them as my paper. I wish I still had one of these scrawlings. and – we didn’t have to sacrifice the tree for my folly. the trees survived in spite of me.

  3. Yes, you are so right, only God can make a tree and then come humans to destroy them. Beautiful words my friend!

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