Trees – a poem


I remember it, there at the centre.
I think of it with the sun low behind it,
Lit up in gold, and casting its shadow over us,
The shade cool to our bare feet.
Tall, broad, strong,
I remember the elegance of its form,
The majesty of its spread.
We tended it, your father and I,
When the world was young.

I imagine it stands, still.
deep in the forbidden land.

And here I am, the only one left to have seen it,
with my own eyes, in all its glory.
I will not be the last.

I remember it,
The Tree of Life.

(Jeremy Williams)

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