Mr. Sycamore

Years ago, I watched a film,

Titled “Mr. Sycamore”;

Stranger than any movie

I had ever seen before.

Unhappy with his life he dug,

A hole in his front lawn.

He jumped in, pulling down the dirt,

By morning he was gone.

He was resurrected with new life,

Where he had lived before,

Sprouting from the hole he dug,

As a beautiful Sycamore. 

Decades later, I see the genius,

Coming back as a towering tree…

He managed to pull off dying,

At home, without having to leave.