Knock on wood

O' American Sycamore-
what dost thou stand for?

Emigrant from England three and three 

quarters score, long along years ago-

And you allegedly pledged your allegiance,
Christening yourself O' Nort 'occidentalis'

signaling westerly growth,

a reminder of the Fall.

Both bark and buds ooze 

with bloom booze, 
how apropos, you know.

The mottled and molted trunk-sheds,

splotches on white, a complexion

that shows you belong, hanging out
(in)toxic(ated) tracts,

peduncles on branchlets

achenes subjective gravitational

caducous coated in tomentum.

And some come foreboding and tall-

but are all hollow 

inside, naturally swept up

saw dust, bore nee by beetled 

witch's broom. 

Image By Huw Williams (Huwmanbeing) (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.