Great Oak Gazette

Alaina Crabtree’29

Staff Writer

I am thankful for the oak, steady and sure. 

Branches secure secrets stolen from the wind’s grasp.

The borrowed time given to me was so pure, 

lurking within the shadow of my past. 

I am thankful for the moss that softens the stone;                  

they cling without question, bringing curiosity and grace,

wrapping stillness in the tender unknown. 

They taught me how to stay and not chase. 

I am thankful for the soil, deeply devoted, 

absorbing failures and turning them into life. 

Each beautiful mineral lost is regretted,

bearing a certain patience and love that feels right. 

I am thankful for the leaves, cracked and bare, 

waiting to be carried by the wind, deprived of pain,

leaving traces of halcyon reminiscence in the air—

proof that emptiness will also remain.

I am thankful for the machine, precise and abject;

it cannot grow roots and is locked in chambers. 

I wish people were more grateful for this object—

an invention built from the scraps of nature.