The Pecan Tree: a poem

There is a tree outside my window,

With branches strong and wide.

The tree is not inside my house,

Because trees ... grow outside.

I look upon the branch's tips

I look among the leaves.

What I see doth trouble me,

It makes my heart weep... it grieves.

Green casings are popping open,

New pecans are bursting forth.

Knowing not their dismal fate

Or their scanty worth.

One will fall onto the ground

Where it will decay, so smelly.

One will find it's way into

A greedy rodent's belly...

Yet another pecan will drop and be

Picked up by a passerby,

Only to be painfully shelled

And cast into a pie!

O, Tree of Pecans,

Why do you bear your fruit?

How do you cope

And maintain your hope

When your offspring are crunched 'neath a boot?