early (with false hair)
later with the real hair
She fell from a tall tall tree
And landed near the sea
The wild winds and water set her free
To float about without an oar
Nor wings on which to soar
She wasn’t missed or wanted anymore
But just bobbed about for years and years
withering away in salty tears
Hearing only jabbing jeers
but the Spirit of that nut lay within
weathered and gray with a frail stipend
still humming a faint echo of the Spirit wind.
That big ole nut did crack and began
The light came in and began to glow
The stories and songs began to flow…
The tall tall trees smothered and drowned
But stuck to their ground
While that little nut floated all around.
The juicy fruit dried up
Wrinkles gnawed the shell
never a tall tall tree would
that nut grow to be.
undaunted, cracked it shares
from shore to shore
lore that only a nut can tell.