SILVER BIRCH

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Silver birch
No more,
Scrolls of papery bark
Sloughed off like dead skin.DSCF7374Roots so deep
They cradle half the hilltop
Can’t hold you there forever.

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Already you are worm meat,
A buffet for woodborers and fungi
A footstool for moss and lichen.
Yet you will linger
In my memories.
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Two decades of family photos
Have graced your low-slung bough—
Seasons changing,
Inexorable growth and decline.
Like a beloved grandparent
You share with us
The passage of time.
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25 thoughts on “SILVER BIRCH

      1. Melissa Shaw-Smith Post author

        Nursery trees–love it! It makes such perfect sense. Thanks for letting me know.

    1. Melissa Shaw-Smith Post author

      Thanks, Kiki. Surrogate family can be as important as the real thing sometimes–certainly more steadfast.

      Reply
    1. Melissa Shaw-Smith Post author

      Thanks, Pearl. Yes, Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite authors and poets, and he captured the nature of trees so beautifully and poignantly in that book.

      Reply
    1. Melissa Shaw-Smith Post author

      Thanks, Roger. The feelings never stop, but sometimes it’s difficult to find the time and focus to put them down on paper! All the best with your writing! – Melissa

      Reply

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