False Starts, Sad End

I started a poem about Alcatraz

And then… “What rhymes with Alcatraz? Sassafras?

Razzmatazz?

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!)

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