As the wind begins to bluster <br />we watch that tattered tree. <br />It's grown to mean so much to us <br />we planted it....you and me. <br /> <br />Today the wind seems brutal <br />as we watch our young tree bend. <br />Our fear is that it's just too weak. <br />Don't let this be the end. <br /> <br />In horror we just watch it <br />while it nearly bends in half. <br />We hear it creak (or is it cry) . <br />And through our nerves we laugh. <br /> <br />To our suprise it stands tall. <br />It's weathered one more day. <br />It may be slightly curved now <br />but that curve will go away. <br /> <br />We get to watch our young tree <br />grow to wondrous heights. <br />In life this also happens <br />but do we recognize the sights.<br /><br />Mary Nagy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/watching-our-young-tree/
