The Seasons It Has Known

Welcome To Author James H. Wilson's Poetry.

The Old Cowboy

What If

The Ode Of Man

The Seasons It Has Known

It stood there straight and tall
With limbs and leaves and shade for all
No one knew its proper age
Or the many seasons it has waged
It was just a tree, of Oak descent
That few remember the hours spent
Setting under it's summer shade
A cool place on the hottest of days
Will we know its age when we count the rings
Will we know the limbs lost every spring
For whatever reason, this year has taken its toll
To leave the memory of the seasons it has known.

James H. Wilson