The Tree Stands Up
Copyright 2015 by J.E. Kronenfeld
The tree stands up against the sky;
The wind blows past and asks me why;
The moon peeks o'er the empty bough;
The stars of me inquire 'How?'.
How and why, and what and where,
As I lay in my dirty underwear
They are dead and I alive;
Yet here I lay and there they strive.
There they wander, bye and bye;
There they go but where am I?
Alone not knowing what or where
And still not changed my underwear.
People there run all askew;
Always looking for something new.
Some wander on and 'round the brink;
Others only sit and think.
People, please, while wandering there,
Please stop and change your underwear.