Talking To Ash
Talking to Ash
How happy I am to see you
Bursting buds at last behind,
Stay with me, just one more year, dear Ash,
I know you are weary, so am I.
Once your leaves were shade-making,
And I as a bride hung clothes by your side.
No longer may I touch your white bark,
Yards across bumpy terrain I can’t glide.
Slender you were growing oddly from your mother,
A mother whose roots drowned in an underground spring,
And I cherished the miracle of your reaching tall,
As did my own offspring.
Stay with me one more year, dear Ash
Though you’re now reaching 60 feet,
Your pale leaves so small and sickly now,
And your shade lightly dappled, not deep.
Other old elms will take over your duties,
As I admire your tenacity,
Stay with me one more year, my dear,
And then another as long as I can be.
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