Why The Giving Tree Makes You Cry (and It’s Not Why You Think)
Anthony Ford

The Giving Tree

by Criss Ittermann

You went to the forest when you were a kid
Doing as every other child did,
You climbed on the branch, swung on the vine
Ate of the apples and had a good time.

And there you were later your lover in hand
You needed a place to sit or to stand
So you took the vine and made a swing
A place in the shade, your lover to bring.

Yet you grew older and married you she
The vows of your wedding taken ‘neath that great tree
Then came the frosts and winds that grow bold
So took you its limbs to stave off the cold.

Later in life, your lover has died.
How oft you sat ‘neath this tree as you cried
It gave you its comfort and shared of your pain
Always giving to you with nothing to gain.

You decided to travel, to see all the lands
So felled you this tree, a stump where it stands.
And hollowed a boat from its ever-giving wood
Never thinking of nature, never thinking of good.

You returned and sat on the stump one last time
The wise man of winter, feeling guilt for your crime.
You know that one day, even if you don’t ask it,
They’ll uplift the stump to make you a casket.

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