We used to climb through
the broken fence and
visit the ancient
Ash tree that
stood, splendid
and solidatary
we would wrap our arms
around it, our fingers
far from touching
in our minds we would
disect the trunk and
count the rings, ageless
it was, beyond
number
we would sit
beneath it’s branches,
that reached out like
arms, hands desperate
to be held
it’s leaves would fall
in autumn, we would kick
their red and orange
offerings, disrespectful
as to where they
had come from
I still go to to it,
sometimes, I still
listen for it’s song
but it is dead
and quiet
without her
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
We used to climb through
the broken fence and
visit the ancient
Ash tree that
stood, splendid
and solidatary
we would wrap our arms
around it, our fingers
far from touching
in our minds we would
disect the trunk and
count the rings, ageless
it was, beyond
number
we would sit
beneath it’s branches,
that reached out like
arms, hands desperate
to be held
it’s leaves would fall
in autumn, we would kick
their red and orange
offerings, disrespectful
as to where they
had come from
I still go to to it,
sometimes, I still
listen for it’s song
but it is dead
and quiet
without her
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