You’re history, said the tree to the wall;
the last crumbling remains of empire.

You are the invader, replied the wall.

I am the conqueror, said the tree to the wall;
sending platoons of seeds across my territory.

I stand alone, replied the wall.

I chose this valley, said the tree to the wall;
stretching my roots under your scored foundations.

I belong here, replied the wall.

I am growing taller, said the tree to the wall;
you’re a lonely stone sentry outstripped by a sapling.

I remain, replied the wall.

I am a survivor, said the tree to the wall;
I host the resurrection of each turning season.

I endure, replied the wall.

You’re the one they blame, said the tree to the wall;
insensate barrier, stone-deaf to the rough bark of liberty.

You cannot know, replied the wall.