In spring it sprouts its tender, green shoots
With a gardener’s soft, whispering touch
In summer it flourishes:

Strong, brown branches clothed in a silk green garment
It takes a few years of careful tending to mature
I remember playing hide-and-seek; climbing

up thin branches, or crouching in the undergrowth.
I think I was too young
            to understand back then: I thought of time

as a steadily growing tree
that I hadn’t yet started climbing.
           Once, you saw my head peeking out from the apple tree.

I'd like a tree to mark the spot
Where I am laid to rest
           For that would be the epitaph, That I would like the best.

You said that soon, I’d always be looking down
at you like that; that time
            passed too quickly. I think I grew younger

You told me once that growing
up was like walking up a downwards escalator.
       My heart is glad, my heart is high with sudden ecstacy!

Grow thou and flourish well,
Ever the story tell of this glad day;
            I have given back, before I die, Some thanks for my lovely apple tree