Rooted here,not susceptible to decay,I get to observe human foibles,from petty weaknessesto deep and entrenched faultsresulting in outright heartbreak.Sometimes the view’s a pleasureas men’s choicesare mostly good for a laugh,or occasional shocked dismay--but I’m no weeperand won’t become entwinedin the pain and foolishness of men.I remain evergreen,abundant, your coveted prize.
For Kerry’s prompt to the Real Toads: What has become of the old gods?