Member Poem

Whispers from a golden sycamore,
it willingly dispenses green leaf secrets to us souls in autumn phase.
Branches creak but somehow never break despite the brittle onslaughts from an ever changing volatile environment.
Sagacious  watchdogs for all seasons whose edges blur with every global warming  or zero arctic plummet.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter, surreal reckless slideshows... sideshows upon a wider world that’s scrambling to catchup.
Yet these stoic trees endure our wantoness so bravely,
the foiled attempts at damage limitation, those madcap retro schemes that flop like couch potatoes on a sofa.
Tall and proud they stand with stout forbearance.
Why not give your favorite tree a well-earned hug?