The Dreams of My Father

(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)

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Author: glennhorne

Writing on matters of national security since 2016.

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