(A tribute to my teacher, Mrs. Ellen Wehrman, and her lovely tree)
On Park Street down in old Bordentown where houses reside in rows…
Along a path of brick and sand, a tall young sapling grows.
And on the ground for all to see are two words upon a stone,
not a long and lengthy diatribe from some old forgotten tome.
There upon that rock it reads the inscription, “Ellen’s Tree”…
a reminder of our teacher to preserve her memory.
Not a stoic oak or sappy pine, but something in between
like a skinny, awkward juvenile, or a preadolescent teen.
Its branches frail and flimsy with over-large green leaves
and bark that seems ill fitting almost bursting at the seams.
With patience, care, and nurturing it will one day come into its own
And will rise to be a pillar where its humble seeds were sown.
Upon a second look it seems more fitting than before,
with a strong and noble bearing there from a sound and righteous core.
Each budding leaf a priceless jewel, every drop of dew a gem
Branches stretch to touch the clouds as skyward they extend.
Ever-reaching toward improvement, from a grounded point of view …
Ellen’s tree keeps on growing like her former students do.
by D. Ryan Lafferty
Literary Crumbs: Poems & Short Stories to Savor by D. Ryan Lafferty 