Great Cotton Tree

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  • Death

    Great Cotton Tree

    Shock strikes my frame

    As I gaze on your name

    “Wayne Brown… dead”

    I hold my head

    Trying to support my frame

    You’ve lost a war

    I never knew you fought

    Though vigorously I Guess you did

    I cannot begin to imagine

    You lost a fight

    And lost your life

    To cancer

    Unknown to me

    So great a man you seemed to be

    Connecting, us three

    You, cancer and me

    So stern and serious

    Couldn’t imagine a cold attacking

    You

    Lived quiet fearless

    Taught others to do the same

    Never ashamed of anything you say

    You!

    The cotton tree

    Where many of our ghosts hide

    We, exorcised

    Your harsh words

    Did us favour

    Now some even write in Newspaper

    Great Cotton Tree

    Fell from inside

    Because your pride

    Would not allow

    Anything from the outside

    To cut you down

    Wayne Brown

    Dead!

    This news is spinning my head

    I know Kings die

    Knights, Presidents and

    Someday, even I

    Not you

    A robust, angry, cynical man

    Cotton Tree

    Thought you’d outlive me

    It was not to be

    But I am yet to understand!

     

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

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