Crooked Tree

Trees have long been trying to reach us. But they speak on frequencies too low for people to hear.
~Richard Powers, The Overstory

Happy Poetry Friday, y'all!

I watched the Poetry Out Loud finals last night, which was fun. I don't have a video of the winning poem recitation, but here's the winner:



I have more lyrics this week!

Crooked Tree by Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway:



Two trees in the forest, one was crooked, one was straight
Crimson bark and emerald needles growing day by day
And though they looked so different, they enjoyed the rain the same side by side
A chickadee had told them of a darkness on the land
Spinning blades that came to visit carried by a man
And every other tree would see them cut down where they stand by and by

Oh, can't you see
A crooked tree won't fit into the mill machine?
They're left to grow wild and free
Oh, I'd rather be a crooked tree

Perfect trees were driven down the mountain to the mill
They turned them into toothpicks and twenty dollar bills
It seemed the more the people took, the more they needed still in the end
The crooked trees were left there after all the work was done
Now they go for weeks and never witness anyone
No one left to tell them if they’re growing right or wrong but the whispering wind

People say I'm different and my way of life seems strange
I took the road less traveled, twists and turns along the way
But like the crooked tree, I'm growing stronger day by day as the clouds roll by
A river never wonders why it flows around the bend
A mountain doesn't question how it rose up from the land
So who am I to wish I wasn't just the way I am? Who am I?

Oh, can't you see
A crooked tree won't fit into the mill machine?
They're left to grow wild and free
Oh, I'd rather be a crooked tree

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Addendum: Poetry Out Loud uploaded the winning performance after I posted this. It's here.

Robyn Hood Black has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Robyn!