The Hackberry

There stands a tree whose climb I've shared, Thereby, stacking hours, we'd fill our day. Where boyhood dreams oft were pared, While observing others passing our way. This tree is huge, and through time's flow, Climbers have been more than its share. Beyond downward branches we would not go, Unless responding to some friend's dare. In youth, one of our grandest trees, At last gasp, growth appeared the same. Now, no foliage to greet spring's breeze, It stands, unable to escape time's claim.