In soil that I have not chosen
in no one's shadow
all myself

I watch and hear the neighbours
I can't get any closer

My branches reach
ever stronger, ever further
Children climb in them

They laugh and kiss
themselves a future

In soil that I have not chosen
in no one's shadow
I become rough and wrinkled

In heat, snow and storm
branches break and die

They reach ever
thinner and shorter
Nests blow away

to new trees
For new loves