by Marisa Delfarno ’18
Almost in perfect unison, they are all lined up,
Postured tall and stately, regal and proud,
And their trunks plumped with life.
Adorned and fruitful while poised with green,
While I am green — in a different fashion.
A celestial ray of light reaches out to them,
Crowning them all with a luminous halo.
And then there is me — obscured.
The jaded, broken vessel. The old soul.
The uncharted, no man’s land.
Aging, languishing, and slouching;
I succumb to the reign of decay.
And I am positioned beneath them,
Always staring up at them.
The hollowing tree stump I am.