If I were a tree,
A Magnificent Maple,
Stately with age,
I’d yell Bloody
Murder
If one branch, just one, defied nature,
Turning autumnal orangey-red
In July.

That cheeky Miss Twiggness,
How dare it cross
Mother Nature
But even worst,
Me, its life’s blood, it’s only sustenance,
Doing the Impossible, midsummer.

Non-conformist, grabbing at notoriety,
Sensational allure, via spectacular color
Ignited
When the rest of us play by the book.

Break the mold, Rebel Child.
If you can’t walk, dance.
If you can’t talk, sing.
Find your own stories to tell.
Carefully,
Believe in what you do,
Or you’ll return to green.
Charlene James-Duguid
Amissville, Virginia
August 2, 2018