
innocence
he hung on the end of a branch, held by a strong, thick limb, the trunk made no comment
just stood tall, innocent, years of rings within— to count them, means you’d have to
cut down the tree, but why would you want to do that, this tree is innocent
rains bucketed the skies and woosh, he fell from the branch, flowing to freedom
a forgone conclusion that this innocent tree and simple autumn leaf have a purpose
the strong, thick limb— innocent, men who were hung- they were not guilty at all
…..
This is my 6 line poem in response to this challenge: Girlie on the Edge





