To the editor:

Above the Port City
in a rarefied air,
there stood a noble oak tree
at once luminous and fair.
For seven score and 10 years long,
the solitary oak was true and strong and
forever with an indomitable will, it would there give witness
on Seminary Hill.
To promises broken
to soils laid bare
by the winds of inequity
and by seasons of despair.
The tree was a giver of hope,
a refuge under threatening skies,
And too soon it was taken
without fanfare or goodbyes.
And there was no requiem given,
nor a single church bell;
there was nothing noble in that farewell.
And if trees could dare speak,
what might this witness say
of battles overcome
and dreams of better days.
In its final splendor
might it then reveal
that the soul of a true witness
can never yield,
and it’s spirit dwells forever
there on that golden hill,
it reaches out and guides us still.

-Nora Donovan, Alexandria