Letter to the editor: Salute to the Honking Tree

Talk about it

I know where a great pine stood, aloft upon a hill.

We always honked as we drove past.

To see it was a thrill.

And then some culprit cut it down, for reasons still unclear, and took away our honking fun, that told us home was near.

A one-time king upon its throne, it towered alone and high.

And overlooked the land around, and the cars that passed on by.

Large, regal branches formed its top, like a crown upon its head.

For sure it had stood there 90 years, perhaps 100 instead.

The roots ran deep into the earth, to feed this giant tree.

Held it tight against the ground for all who honked to see.

Countless winds made it sway, perhaps had bent it low.

Countless rains had fed it life.

It had seen its share of snow.

Perhaps some fire had scorched its sides, or disease had done its part.

But still the pine stood straight and tall.

It had a solid heart.

The tree had meaning to many of us – a symbol of our land.

A gift from nature to be sure.

The Honking Tree so grand.

To honk at it as we drove by

Was always done in fun.

The grand old pine that stood alone, on northbound 61.

From Don Bolen, Two Harbors

This poem is an adaptation of one Bolen wrote in his book of ballads, poems and short stories, “Snickers From the Snuff Jar.”

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