Not in the literal sense:
As in having one ripped out by the roots
And smacking me where I deserve
“Take THAT you pitiful reprobate!”
But in the figurative sense:
As in gawking at our old oak tree
It is Western or “Cork
It sits in the far back of our yard
Noticed mainly at times of the year
When small leaves make a mess out of
Molly’s Own Personal Swimming Pool
And when it’s branches grow too close
To the power lines
So that the utility company has to
Give it kind of a brutal trim
With little or no thought to esthetics
I happened to be back there
At the right time for beautiful morning shadows
And noticed she has grown somewhat stately
In the twenty plus years we have been here
She is probably about 30 years old.
So I wanted to give her credit for being there for us.
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