I started a poem about Alcatraz
And then… “What rhymes with Alcatraz? Sassafras?
All that jazz?”
I started a poem about pineapple
And, while that’s easier to rhyme, I grapple
Instead with meaning, and another surprise:
Too many eyes.
“Write us a poem! Please?” I hear your pleas.
So we’re back to our old reliable: Trees.
I’m frond of trees,
Dig their roots,
Gobble their fruits,
And pretend their branches wave to me. “Hi, friend!”
Even to the end.**
~ Camp Host Chad
(**Please come down, assassin in the tree. Descend!)