• Author B. D. West

The Watering Tree

The Watering Tree


Underneath the watering tree.

I kneel down on one knee.

I lay my money down.

I run away trying to make no sound.

I hide behind a trusty oak tree.

I wait for a stranger to leave something for me, underneath the watering tree.

The stranger holds my water in his hand.

He is mysterious as if from a distant land.

I close my timid eyes and listen to his paranoid steps.

He can feel me close in the forest deep dark depths.

But I dare not move, I barely breathe.

I listen as the stranger moves away from me; maybe he is making his way home.

In the holler we have a code.

We never ask of your business or of what horse you rode.

Words are never spoken of the watering tree but we all know it’s there.

We all know of the mysterious stranger and of the water he bears.

I often wonder if we shall ever meet or if he is out there looking for me.

Looking for me… Underneath the watering tree.


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Author B. D. West all rights reserved