The years and time siphoned
Out the life of that tall standing tree.
As the wind cankers its dry branches; a ruthful vagabond,
The tree, of its teeming duties remains free.
Somewhere, you can see its lushy green,
The twittering garden, breezy dance and impalpable glory,
The soul savory colors and seasonal reigns, reflecting
In the ether of earth rooted memory.