The Big Oak Tree

Back to the big oak, my old climbing frame
Now it is my shelter from the driving rain

I think back to the days that have gone
A close distant sound of a guitarist's song

It has shrunk these past few years
I look out at the rain in hope it clears

A drop of water lands on my face
I wipe it off and prepare to embrace

I pause for a moment, and look back at the tree
Was this a dream, or a memory?

By Pete Scopes