Sycamore Trees by Mary Bone


Sycamore Trees

The spring breeze blew through
the trees.
Resin dropped down
on the ground.
The sap was ready to be
made into syrup.
The syrup is sold to
neighbors and some is stored
for future consumption.
The Sycamore trees bend and
snap, waiting for a bucket
and a tap.

Mary-BoneMary Bone about Mary Bone
I have been writing since the age of twelve and have had two books of poetry published. My poems have appeared in journals, magazines, newspapers and online blogs. The most recent poetry acceptances are posted at Poetry Pacific, Literary Yard, Afflatus Magazine and my poem, ”Other Warriors” will appear in the July/August issue of Oklahoma Today Magazine. I also like to draw and paint in my spare time.

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