Your Chosen Selection
THE MIGHTY OAK
By Ilana Mor 6/96
Jangling phones shattered the night
With news that scattered the box
Defenses and pretenses were thrown to the wind,
As sweat poured from her drooping locks.
The mighty oak has fallen down,
A mere twig tossed by the wind
Nothing gathered throughout this life
Can fight the force and make it rescind.
For so long shes been at the head,
Whims and wishes felt by the crowd
Now shes fighting a losing battle,
The mighty matriarch is screaming out loud.
How brief are our moments on earth,
As we strut all puffed up with pride
Then with wisdom, aware of the scheme,
God tosses our pretenses aside.