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"I, the Tree"
Stephen Rodriguez

The bench appeared and there I took my seat
to rest and watch the park evolve and change
to new, exciting things. A tree appeared,
to lend its shade to me, and next a boy
appeared as well. He walked up to my bench
and said “Hey mister, come and see this tree,
this shady tree right here above our heads.”
He led me to its trunk and told me to
climb halfway up and tell him what I saw.
I climbed the branches, he began to laugh
“It’s high up here!” he said “I hope I don’t
fall down and hurt myself.” I wondered why
he talked of me as though I was himself.
I sat down on a limb and heard him call
“Now see that branch that hangs above your head?
Why don’t you see if you can break it off?”
I grabbed it and I got prepared to pull
it from the tree. I didn’t see what harm
a thing like that could do. I pulled it hard
and snapped it from the tree, but as I did,
a pain ran through my hand. The boy called out
“I’m sorry; it was what we had to do.”
I saw my hand was bleeding, as was his.
I climbed down from the tree and asked him why
he thought that that was what we had to do.
“The branch will grow back stronger than it was,
and then you’ll see that you’ve grown stronger, too.”