The Farmer and I were walking out in the woods a while back, and came across something we don’t remember noticing before:
Yes, several feet off the ground there’s a PIPE stuck in that tree.
Here’s a closer look at it:
We have NO idea how it got there. It’s obviously been there a long time considering the way the tree has grown around it. We’ve been here for 12 years, so we know it’s been longer than that.
Why anyone would put a pipe there, who knows? But I feel another tree poem coming on . . .
I never thought that I should see,
A pipe stuck way up in a tree.
A tree who has a pipe that’s prest
Against the bark upon it’s chest;
A tree that looks a trifle odd,
To have a pipe stuck in its bod;
A tree that in all seasons dresses
With metal among its leafy tresses.
Upon whose bosom rests a pipe;
But yet I’ve never heard it gripe.
Yep, such poems are made by fools like me,
Wondering how a pipe got in a tree.
(Apologies to the late Mr. Kilmer; just coudn’t resist another parody of “Trees”.)