{"id":49140,"date":"2019-06-22T13:26:02","date_gmt":"2019-06-22T17:26:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=49140"},"modified":"2019-06-22T13:28:10","modified_gmt":"2019-06-22T17:28:10","slug":"a-night-with-old-tree-before-the-city-cut-it-down","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/a-night-with-old-tree-before-the-city-cut-it-down\/","title":{"rendered":"A Night With Old Tree Before the City Cut It Down"},"content":{"rendered":"<div>The tree is leaning over, it is ancient and it is ill<\/div>\n<div>and its face is that of a man or something greater<\/div>\n<div>I sit and stare and take in its fragrance<\/div>\n<div>and I&#8217;m glad<\/div>\n<div>at the end of its life<\/div>\n<div>it spared a blip of a moment for me<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div>The tree knows I&#8217;m there,<\/div>\n<div>though I may be no more than a pinprick<\/div>\n<div>or a faint draft<\/div>\n<div>everything talks<\/div>\n<div>everything listens<\/div>\n<div>and the old spirit speaks to me or the night<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div>It wonders aloud about what a strange thing this life is<\/div>\n<div>It muses about the fate of its seeds<\/div>\n<div>It moans over its aching branches<\/div>\n<div>It peeks above the rooftops made out its cousins<\/div>\n<div>and surveys the rest of the town<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div>Tired as all things are<\/div>\n<div>after a long day or life<\/div>\n<div>when the evening is old and it&#8217;s time to sleep<\/div>\n<div>It yawns and sways lazily<\/div>\n<div>And gives one last thought to the draft<\/div>\n<div>poking at its feet<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div>The stars swirl and dance to your music<\/div>\n<div>and they take on the colors<\/div>\n<div>of your thoughts and your dreams<\/div>\n<div>When my wandering is over<\/div>\n<div>I can only hope to be as wise and fleeting as you<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The tree is leaning over, it is ancient and it is ill and its face is that of a man or something greater I sit and stare and take in its fragrance and I&#8217;m glad at the end of its life it spared a blip&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1259,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-49140","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1259"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=49140"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":49310,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49140\/revisions\/49310"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=49140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=49140"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=49140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}