(With a nod to outgoing U.S. president, Barack Obama)
In the misty rain,
I see the apple tree –
the tree which my father said would not grow,
but which grew;
the tree which my father said would not bear fruit,
but which bore fruit.
I am this tree.
I feel the air,
cool and moist;
I hear birds
chirping in my boughs;
I look up, down, and all around –
I see the dreams of my father.
(Copyright Glenn D. Horne, 2015)